Demo

As the train pulled out of the station and tracked north towards the capital, Dean cracked a bottle of cheap red wine, took a swig then offered it to her. Their fingers touched and there was a little zap of electricity.

The train was busy and they had to lean close to hear each other over the hubbub of the happy crowd. A fun feeling of excitement surged through everybody and there was a lot of laughing and people talking over each other.

By the time they passed the airport, Kat was a little drunk. She leaned in too far when the train jolted and smacked their foreheads together. Kay laughed, rubbing her smarting eyebrow. She could tell by the way he looked at her that he wanted to kiss her.

So she leaned forward and gave him her tongue, swirling it around his mouth and sliding her hand up the inside of his leg. He laughed, grabbing her hand and pressing it into himself. The empty wine bottle rolled under their feet as the train slowed and the platform appeared outside the window.

Everyone was even more excited now and when the doors opened, Kat and Dean were born aloft like corks, bobbing along to the mercy of the current down the platform, through the station and out into the light and fresh air at the base of the old brown parliament buildings.

The big clock stared at them, and the tower cast a shadow over part of the crowd. A few iron statues punctuated the sea of heads which bled and streamed around with its own conventions of movement.

Kay became one of the many with Dean beside her. This was very much his scene and she had to admit, he did look the part. Black hat, black mask, black denim jacket and combat pats. Doc Martens. His uniform was picture-perfect and he pulled on a pair of black gloves. Others around them rallied. Someone procured a bullhorn. Dean grabbed the mike and cracked it to life. Screeched feedback then his words barked over the crowd.

‘Comrades,’ he squawked. ‘Comrades.’ He looked up at the statue towering over him – one of the dead white men of the 20th century, put his hand on the plinth and with a boost from 2 comrades, struggled up, elbowing onto the statue. He stood beside the dead PM, hanging off the stiff metal coattails.

‘Today is a sad day. A dark day. When I see so many good, honest, hard-working people who feel the need to come here on a day like today. It makes me think why? And who is to blame? Cowards! I won’t even call them men. The parasites in there.’ He waved a fist at the Houses of Parliament. The crowd fed back its approval.

‘Look around,’ he barked. ‘Look to your left. Your right. The person beside you. People around you. They’re what make this country great. Not the dead men out here or in there. How much longer will the few oppress the many? How many innocents will we lose? How much suffering must we endure before something breaks and we start to fight back? We’re in an abusive relationship, comrades. It’s not only our right to stand up and defend ourselves, but a responsibility. A responsibility each and every one of us holds on our shoulders. And I say no more. I say it’s time to stand up. I say it’s time to fight for what’s right. Fight for the people! Fight. Fight. Fight.’

Dean punched the air and the crowd caught the chant like a beachball, tossing it up, keeping it up higher and higher. Like a pond in a deluge, the crowd began swelling. Kat could feel the pressure behind her. Little waves curled against the statue’s base, reverberating like ripples around it and lapping over Dean’s boots. Kat surged forward and pulled back, surged forward, pulled back, lost in the momentum around her. She was in a cocoon of noise and pressure and other people’s bodies and, though alien, she found the sensation quite pleasant.

Her fingers and toes tingled and a snake slowly rolled in her belly as the excitement reached a new sensuous, almost sensual level. The backs of her knees were being pressed into by someone else’s and her right breast was smushed against somebody’s shoulder. Hair was on her face and she could smell coconut oil and tobacco. She swallowed a little saliva at the back of her throat.

Heady scents rose from the crowd – adrenaline, sweat, pheromones. Kat watched in a trance as Dean hopped down in a kaleidoscope moonpool that splashed up her legs. A circle formed. They were 2 koi carp in a pond.

The grass was muddy and she slipped. Dean slid down on top so they were one. His grip scared her but she found solace in the fear reflected in his own open eyes. She pulled down his mask and sucked in his tongue as he fumbled with the button of her jeans.

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