{"id":2427,"date":"2016-07-06T13:48:26","date_gmt":"2016-07-06T13:48:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.stuartmillerosborne.co.uk\/?p=2427"},"modified":"2016-07-06T13:50:44","modified_gmt":"2016-07-06T13:50:44","slug":"sunrise","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/2016\/07\/06\/sunrise\/","title":{"rendered":"Sunrise"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><b>A Lecture \u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n<p><i>There is a castle in Ferrara in Italy which once from one of its towers flew the red flag of communism <\/i><\/p>\n<p><em>It was a proud moment<\/em><\/p>\n<p><i>On the 20<sup>th<\/sup> of December 1920 a number of our comrades were holding a meeting in the castle when a fascist parade passed by in the street below<\/i><\/p>\n<p><em>Bombs were thrown <\/em><\/p>\n<p><i>Whether planned or not three fascists died in the attack <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>The attack was a triumph a strike for freedom <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>The castle still bears the scars of the attack <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>On its walls three garlands celebrate the names of the dead fascists <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>Ai martiri Fascisti del 20 Decembre 1920<\/i><\/p>\n<p>Beppe rose from his chair<\/p>\n<p><i>Sit down Beppe let the man speak <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>Sir do these garlands still exist?<\/i><\/p>\n<p><em>I was in Ferrara only a month ago and these names are still celebrated on the red castle walls<\/em><\/p>\n<p><i>Is it not strange then that many loyal communists died but no lasting memorials to them are to be found in the area?<\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>That is the price of freedom Sir <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>That is a clich\u00e9 <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>That is the truth<\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>Sit down Beppe \u00a0<\/i><\/p>\n<p>Beppe sat down and looked at Christina<\/p>\n<p>She was wearing faded blue jeans and a white shirt belted at the waist<\/p>\n<p>Christina\u2019s sandals lay loosely on the stone floor in front of her<\/p>\n<p><i>Where is you rifle comrade?<\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>I have no rifle <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>Never be without your rifle Christina <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>Beppe how many times do I have to repeat this to you? <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>The war is over <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>The war is finished <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>La guerre est finie<\/i><\/p>\n<p>As they left the church both Beppe and Christina left a few coins on the plate by the door<\/p>\n<p>The lecture had been free but a retiring collection had been suggested <i>\u00a0<\/i><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><b>\u00a0Christina\u2019s Shirt <\/b><\/p>\n<p><i>You are really only in love with the image Christina <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>Explain yourself <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>Look at you<\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>You are dressed like a man <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>You are wearing old boots scruffy trousers held up by an ancient leather belt <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>I dress like you comrade <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>You dress for yourself <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>Look at your shirt Christina <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>You shirt is your image <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>Your buttons are provocative left open to suggest your breasts <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>A closed invitation <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>When you raise your rifle your comrades look at the movement of your breasts and not the enemy <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>You will kill them all Christina <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>And you too will die in time in a cornfield on a very hot day <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>An aged fascist will glimpse your white shirt reflective in the strong sun <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>He will see a hint of your breasts as you move quietly in the heat of the afternoon <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>His prick will harden as he watches you <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>He desires you <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>He wants to fuck you <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>But he cannot have you <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>You are untouchable<\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>This angers him <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>He raises his rifle and shoots you in the throat <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>A tear will run down his rugged face for he has destroyed a thing of beauty <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>Beautiful but vain <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>You will die in agony choking on your own blood <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>Your shirt will be stained red as will the corn that surrounds you <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>The day will remain beautiful and there will not be any noticeable change in the temperature of the afternoon<\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>But you will feel cold <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>Very cold <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>Your last conscious image will be of your weeping comrades and the golden cornfields <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>You will take this with you into eternity <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>What about the old fascist will he remain sad?<\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>For a while<\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>You will occur in his dreams from time to time <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>In his dreams he is your comrade<\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>You are in the cornfield with him <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>His head is resting on your breasts<\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>In the distance he sees himself raising a rifle <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>Without waking you he raises his rifle and kills the aged fascist on the hill <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>You open your eyes and enquire whether the war is finished <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>He replies that the war never started <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>It was all a dream <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>\u00a0<\/i><\/p>\n<p><b>A Street of Light <\/b><\/p>\n<p>Can you see anything?<\/p>\n<p>No but I am sure that they are there<\/p>\n<p>The street is so well lit<\/p>\n<p>There are no shadows<\/p>\n<p>Mark my word they are watching us<\/p>\n<p>Will you be taken alive?<\/p>\n<p>And be tortured?<\/p>\n<p>Then we will die in a hail of bullets<\/p>\n<p>Possibly<\/p>\n<p>I will fall on my favourite chair with a dozen bullets inside me<\/p>\n<p>Why a dozen?<\/p>\n<p>Why waste the extra bullet<\/p>\n<p>The fascists will abuse my corpse<\/p>\n<p>I will be fucked after death by each of them<\/p>\n<p>My body will still be warm and supple<\/p>\n<p>You too will be abused<\/p>\n<p>A rifle will be stuck up your arse and the last shot will be fired<\/p>\n<p>Fucking homosexual<\/p>\n<p>They are all homosexuals<\/p>\n<p>All communists are homosexuals<\/p>\n<p>And we will be left there for a day in the heat until two cowards come to collect our bodies<\/p>\n<p>Our room will stink of death<\/p>\n<p>The cowards will wear masks and images of the Virgin Mary on their shirts<\/p>\n<p>We will be carried to a lime pit and dumped there without burial<\/p>\n<p>The cowards will clean our little flat<\/p>\n<p>They will live there with their whores<\/p>\n<p>They will fuck each other on our bed<\/p>\n<p>Without changing our love sheets<\/p>\n<p>Shit stains will soil our chairs<\/p>\n<p>All fascists are homosexuals<\/p>\n<p>They do not wash after fucking<\/p>\n<p>The Devil invented anal sex<\/p>\n<p>All fascists are children of the Devil<\/p>\n<p>Be quiet Christina<\/p>\n<p>Can you see them?<\/p>\n<p>I think I can see them in the shadows<\/p>\n<p>There are no shadows<\/p>\n<p>The street is so well lit<\/p>\n<p>They hide in the shadows<\/p>\n<p>The wooden door of our building has opened<\/p>\n<p>The fascists are pouring in<\/p>\n<p>Why are they creeping up the stairs?<\/p>\n<p>Even fascists have hearts they want our last moments to be without fear<\/p>\n<p>But I am terrified<\/p>\n<p>So am I<\/p>\n<p>Raise your rifle comrade<\/p>\n<p>Are you reading to fire?<\/p>\n<p>In the distance the strong summer sun was rising above the roof tops<\/p>\n<p>Christina felt the warmth of the sun on her face<\/p>\n<p>Sunlight was flooding the room<\/p>\n<p>She glanced down into the street<\/p>\n<p>It was empty<\/p>\n<p>The street lights had extinguished themselves and the cool morning air as yet unheated rippled the red flags that hung from the colonial balconies<\/p>\n<p><i>I do not think that they are coming <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>No the fascists only operate at night <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>They operate in the shadows <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>That is why they never visit this street <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>They fear the light <\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>Then why are we holding our rifles?<\/i><\/p>\n<p><i>Return your rifle<\/i><\/p>\n<p>Beppe and Christina sat on the light iron chairs on their balcony<\/p>\n<p>They were drinking coffee<\/p>\n<p>Both were wearing sun glasses<\/p>\n<p>As the sun was bright<\/p>\n<p>Christina had unbuttoned her white shirt<\/p>\n<p>The breeze felt good on her skin<\/p>\n<p>In the apartment opposite an old man who had once been a member of a death squad watched as the breeze rippled her shirt occasionally exposing her nipples<\/p>\n<p>He was dying<\/p>\n<p>He knew that he was dying<\/p>\n<p>His heart was fading<\/p>\n<p>He should have killed her in the cornfield<\/p>\n<p>He wants you to remove your shirt<\/p>\n<p>So that he can see your breasts as he dies<\/p>\n<p>Christina spills her coffee and splashes her shirt<\/p>\n<p>She swears and smiles at Beppe<\/p>\n<p>The old man watches as Christina removes her white shirt<\/p>\n<p>She has spotted him<\/p>\n<p>But does nothing<\/p>\n<p>For the first time in his tormented life the old man believes in God<\/p>\n<p>He thinks of all the people he has killed<\/p>\n<p>A pregnant angel hovers over him<\/p>\n<p>It is time to leave<\/p>\n<p>God Forgives<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><i>\u00a0\u00a0<\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A Lecture \u00a0 There is a castle in Ferrara in Italy which once from one of its towers flew the red flag of communism It was a proud moment On the 20th of December 1920 a number of our comrades were holding a meeting in the castle when a fascist parade passed by in the [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2427"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2427"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2427\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2427"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2427"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2427"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}