Chinese

“Ey up love, can yer recommend me a good Chinese round ‘ere please?” 

A stout gentleman rested his hands upon the bar, he was a little shorter than her but managed to meet her gaze.

“Sure”, the girl said, for she did this multiple times a week.

“There’s one just off the Main Street in the city, you’re best off getting a taxi there. She could visualise exactly which route the taxi would take to get there, it would drop him at the side and he would have to walk round to the front, it was a dark and rainy night but over the bar, she could see him holding a large umbrella. Business man she thought.

“Ahh”, he nodded as if in agreement, 

“One of your regular haunts is it?” 

“No, I just have it on very good authority”, she smiled at the thought of the girl who used to pull pints alongside her on this bar. She had never really been a fan of Chinese food herself but Megan had sworn by this place tucked away from the large overcrowded place right in the centre. Although they had only ever ordered hungover takeaway from it which she could barely manage. 

“Well, I’ll just ‘av ter check it out for meself”, the man’s strong Yorkshire accent was obvious, he must have originally been from these parts. She always thought it was nice when people didn’t lose their roots and returned back to God’s county. 

“Cheers for that, I’ll let yer know if it’s any good”, he said as he wandered off to find a taxi, Peroni in hand.

She was left feeling a small sadness but knew that Megan would be proud of her recommendation and that in itself was enough to make her feel content for the rest of the shift. 

Manchester

So they’ll detonate a few bombs in throughout our great cities,

kill our friends and families,

but refuse to destroy our spirits,

because after all, we built this, from nothing

We used to live in stick houses and make fire with our bare hands,

from that we discovered bricks and glass,

we created paths, carriages and horses, the romans built them poker straight,

we edited that to create twists and turns and then machines that could navigate those,

the saxons invaded us giving our country its name, altering our language, we have never been afraid to let others edit our culture , to settle here and share this land we call home but your attacks will never become part of our daily lives, we will always be horrified by them and what you are doing to those in your own countries,

we stood up to Hitler and his nazis ensuring he would surrender,

his bombs destructed most of the country,

but we rebuilt our churches, hospitals and homes,

Hitler didn’t even get close to our landmarks,

St Pauls and Battersea remained with just a nick in their side repaired in no time.

Horrors of that were forgotten when we all got high and sung along to the Beatles in the 60s,

The IRA haunted us for over twenty years attempting to blow up our primeministers and devestate our cities including the one you’ve just hit.

Nah, I don’t think you’re gonna get us mate, we’ll just grab a pint, drink to the memories of those we’ve lost and sit in our locals till you’re done, we’ve got enough breweries to keep us going, enough chippuies to fulfill our hunger, enough Oasis, The Smiths and Stones to drown out the sound of your hate preaching. There will be minutes of remembrance at our concerts, football matches followed by cheering as loud as we can to show our support to those who have lost people but not their fine spirit.

We are grateful to everyone who has contributed to our communities, helped build them, the Pakistanis that have become doctors, the Iranians who are teachers, all of these embody what is is to be British and help to repair the damage that you have done.

What you represent is not a religion but your own greed and own cruel will you wish to inflict upon the entire world. 

We are British, but above all, we are human beings with conscience, something you fail to acknowledge in your mission to play God and sabotage our way life of life.

 

 

 

 

 

Pounce

He was waiting for me,

On a warm night, little did I know as I hit the flush,

That once I unlocked that door,

He would pounce like a panther,

Push me in to the cubicle, bash my head against the wall,

I thought I’d scream, but no sound came,

He stole more than just my body,

My senses were temporarily misplaced too,

All I felt was pain, that accent still terrifies me to the core now,

But it was never really over, it continued in my head,

But back with my friends, it was as if nothing abnormal had happened at all,

As if I had just been to touch up my make up,

Pushing back the pain and covering up my bruises with my dress,

Blaming my wet eyes on the smoke around us,

Yet I could still feel his stare from across the room,

Running was not an option here,

I could not bring myself to ruin the night for my friends,

Nor the life of his operation bound son, nor bare the grief of my parents’ worst fears coming true,

But I am still in ruins over whether he did it to anyone else and that guilt will always consume me,

For he did what his society had taught him and used me as an object that he felt he had the right to despite my protestations

So I tried to stay away but somehow he always came my way,

So I placed my feet on to another solid land,

And he is still there digging in the sand,

I found freedom and I refuse to let the fear of what him or another could do let me live only in the light of day.