From All-Creatures.org

Animal Rights Poetry and Prose By Heidi Coon

Direct Action Chronicles - Rob's Story
May 2022

Rob and Dove...

Part 1: One

It had pissed down rain and temperatures dropped overnight, so that the gravel was frozen together like slippery sandpaper.

His fingertips were pinching from the cold, his breath swollen around his face on each exhalation. He stood in the bitter parking lot like a bonfire.

He came to eat fire. He was ready for a fight and it was waiting for him inside.

He didn’t have any former training. He came not to spill blood, but to prevent blood from being spilled.

They were already inside. The killers.

There were 3 vehicles parked out back, and Rob recognized each one of them. He was certain there were at least four inside, maybe even five.

They all had weapons “you can bet your ass, they do” thought Rob.

His hands and pockets were empty. He looked around toward the road, traffic was picking up, getting thicker like insects do. He realized he was grinding his teeth and he stopped. It was almost time.

He was just going to go through that door, ignore the insults, ignore the stinking fucking slob with mop hair and acidic breath that always got in his face.

“Whatcha gonna do, queer-bait?” was a favorite of mop heads. His jagged sweaty smile stretching across his vile face.

....

Please read the ENTIRE ACTIVISM/RESCUE STORY HERE

©Heidi Coon, 2022

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