The Mosh Pit

The room pulses with an energy keeping beat with the bass drum.

Internal organs vibrating; anticipation builds.

Arms held aloft-fists clenched.

Sentries stand at the border, arms folded and chins held high.

Feet planted firmly-taking root so as to stem the tsunami.

Lights go up, disturbing a seething mass of bodies.

The music slows, heralding the imminent storm;

The eye of which defies science-its pupil dilating.

The music again builds; its presence intimidating the lights.

Elbows collide and sweat flies.

Bodies spin and bounce.

The sentries, pinball wizards whose folded arms occasionally extend to flip the ball back in play.

Behind them, a sea of people moving as one; the eye prevented from averting its stare.

The tempo shifts and the storm calms. The eye is swallowed up.

All face forward, catching their breath and reconnecting with the room.

Arms held aloft-fists clenched.

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Amanda Bird

Amanda Bird

Amanda has always thought of herself as an armchair traveller, and since early childhood books and stories have provided the portal to other worlds. Her love of reading sparked a passion for writing and she has been writing stories since... a very long time ago! She now lives in Hove, and the view allows space for her imagination to roam.
Amanda Bird

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