One thing I am paying attention to is Guen's dress. It's black with tiny blue flowers on it. Very floaty, but fitted at the waist. Perfect for a warm summer evening.
Dribs and drabs of post-march...er...marchers, wonder past us carrying rolled-up banners under their arms, plus or minus face paint.
One particularly vocal lady with close-cropped blonde hair, in scruffy cargo/jean things with a dark grey t-shirt filled with with rather too much belly and showing the faded black and white logo of some chick-rock band or other, is attempting to stir the dissent of her two marching sisters who were regarding her with more and more embarrassment as the trio walk past us.
I don't remember the exact wording other than "Worthless Scum", but the sentiments stuck with me, in her mind not only were men the root of all evil, but their monuments should be torn down, pictures of them torn up and all women who had ever loved or lusted after one exiled from society. Her marching sisters were less than convinced and moved like people torn between supporting their friend and distancing themselves from a noisy lunatic. The trio disappear from view.
Lovely.
Arm in arm, Guen and I turn a corner to walk through the double-doored "airlock" into the shopping centre which constituted part of the walk home. It was a pair of doors that worked as a valve, only opening inwards so as to control the flow of people in the centre. Trying to make the airlock look less sterile the mall had put a couple of large pot palms in the ocrners and painted a deep dark red onto the walls. One of which currently prevented the backward escape of the two moderates, being verbally pinned up againste it and yelled at by their portly, blond-cropped comrade.
She wasn't happy. Her chubby cheeks blotched red with fury. She was livid that ladies weren't siding with her. I *can't* imagine why, thought I to myself as I strode ahead of Guen to open the door at the far end for her. As I hefted the door open I turned to look back and my blood ran cold.
The blonde mentalist had a pair of kitchen scissors open and was pressing one blade to her friend's throat while swinging another blade around in a dangerously confined space. Guen was trapped between the closed "In-Only" outside door and a knife wielding lunatic. Knowing I couldn't reach her or reason with the lunatic, I leaned past the inner door and shouted for help.
Hearing the shouts, three heroic girls came running. All tall, athletic and courageous they pushed past me. One wasted no time subduing the assailant, her dark skin, obvious musculature and rampant black hair a stark contrast to the the pale-skinned corpulence topped with a yellow buzz-cut. The other two went to help the two other marchers, while I went to retrieve Guenevere, who'd tried to hide behind a 5ft palm.
Huge, brown, worried eyes peered at me as I uncovered her face from behind a protective mop of hair.
A stark image to wake up with...
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