jehode avatar

by

The scab bus stops at the barrier. Covered in coal dust, unclean; makes it harder to see who's on board. But we know them.

There is shouting, spitting, gesturing, the usual. I do nothing. I’ve been on the picket line for 21 hours. I'm knackered.

When you’re tired you see things differently, don’t you?. Sometimes when you’re tired you hate those bastards on board even more, especially your own brother. Other times, you understand they’re all much like him, kids to feed, hard choices made.

Someone raises the barrier. The bus drives in. The barrier slowly falls.

I walk home.

6 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Tony Spencer about 5 years ago

    Very poignant. I remember the newsreels. I look back upon it as a defining moment in British social and political life. Once Maggie's vindictive cohorts destroyed that last bastion, the country was lost. There's no working class, no work, no deep mine coal and soon no gas, oil, the nuke nightmare begins and the lights'll soon be out...

  • avatar

    Drew Martyn about 5 years ago

    I agree totally - it's sad but very true Tony, thanks for the comment.

  • avatar

    Horrorshow about 5 years ago

    As the son of a miner, this drabble had a special meaning for me. Good work, Drew.

  • avatar

    Drew Martyn about 5 years ago

    Thanks, glad you connected Horrorshow.

  • avatar

    Bryan Thomas almost 5 years ago

    Evokes the Thatcher years perfectly.

  • avatar

    Drew Martyn almost 5 years ago

    Cheers Bryan, thanks for the comment.

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