Down in Flames
We go in different directions down the imperturbable street, but how long can that be true? We carry the same signs, chant the same words calling for justice in a world too long without, but your way is far different than ours. They may be louder, but your words ring hollow. Your goal is to incite, giving you the freedom to wreak havoc while others pay.
Even then, your motives are clouded. Is it anarchy, a wish to overthrow the establishment as so many claim, or is it merely an opportunity to loot and vandalize, damn the very people we march to protect? Actions such as yours only solidify the hatred in the narrow minds we try so hard to change, guaranteeing our defeat.
You throw your first flaming bottle, a window breaks, and I know the streets will never be the same again.
This bit of flash fiction is my response to Prosery Monday: Different Directions, presented by Merril at dVerse Poets Pub. With Prosery, the challenge is to write a piece of flash fiction with a 144-word limit. Included in the bit of prose is to be a complete line from a poem. For this prompt, the line to be included is “We go in different directions down the imperturbable street,” from “An Aspect of Love, Alive in the Ice and Fire,” by Gwendolyn Brooks. My flash fiction also meets the additional challenge of hitting the 144-word mark, exactly. Other entries can be read here.
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