They said the riots were the start, but they were wrong.
It started with the whispers. A susurrus of discontent, at the school gates, in the allotments, in the streets.
They met in libraries and parks, made plans to protect the vulnerable, and keep every belly fed. They planted seeds of hope and potatoes of defiance.
No longer supported by the system, they supported each other. They locked together like a shield wall, so when the time came to strike, they were unbreakable.
The cry rang through the streets; “No Gods, No Masters, We Aren’t Sheep To Be Led”
They said the riots were the start, but they were wrong.
It started with solidarity.
This poem/flash fiction piece started out as a vss365 entry before I expanded it for Organise! Magazine
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