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I tell stories
100 words, or sometimes more

Springtime in Prague

I’d always thought there would be guns. I imagined myself a hero of the revolution, walking trenchcoated down snow-dashed streets, holding an illegal Soviet pistol and watching Straka’s Academy burn in the distance.

In the end, there were no guns. We took down the government with words and libraries. Instead of fighting, we walked outside. There was work to be done, and we didn’t do it.

History might say, after Berlin, it was inevitable.

But with no-one to push them, dominoes stay standing.

I’m no hero. I was one in a 200,000-strong crowd. Looking back, it was better that way.

1 comment… add one

  • Neil

    This one was from the prompt ‘the death of Stalinism in Bohemia’.

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