The air was thick with brothers arms entwined in a fence that stretched beyond the battery lines of police men, in truncheons at the ready to crack and bleed any radical dream of freedom.
The lines advanced at each other, one sheltered in sheet metal solid while the other hidden behind worn woollen masks with holes to see freedom beyond the barricades.
The firecrackers split the screams wailing as rubber bullets tore out advancing flesh and spilled red roses of blotches on the snow of yesterdays mourning for the dead.
The lines at the face of the glare and all hell stopped short of shouting The silence crawled in between the ready boots about to burst through the ranks. But no one moved out of position.
You could their hearts pounding in fear of death and freedom. The first shot never fired was whisper over their heads as the deep breathing misted their misery One side commanded, the other demanded.
From high above the roof tops the cross hairs closed on the opposite heads near the ears which would spill their protest forever. But fear has a way of withdrawing into pockets to crack open masked skulls another day.
The voice on the walkie-talkie crackled "Withdraw. Withdraw. Slowly. Slowly the World is now watching". The lens have closed and captured the commanders eyeballs for the world press. "Withdraw slowly we will return when we clean out the parapets of all these ******* photographers who don't know what real "peace" means".
Let the tyres burn and squelch for today. "Dinner is ready in the barracks You are all brave men. You love your country. Guard it with all your might. Withdraw today. Return tomorrow. We have a job to do!"