It’s November 5th. I’m stood at the base of the houses of parliament, cloaked in a dark hood to fend off the bitter weather. I start to imagine how Mr Fawkes would have felt as he stood on this very spot, exactly 409 years ago to the day.
Months of plotting had led him to be here, hiding 36 barrels of gunpowder from vagabonds and the authorities. I had only spent a few minutes in the plotting phase, but am now trying to hide my expensive camera from vagabonds and the authorities. Which is proving difficult because tonight thousands of protesters in Guy Fawkes masks are swarming the square, along with 600 riot police.
Seventeen storeys above me looms a beautiful flat roof. It stands directly opposite Big Ben, just slightly higher than the clock face, with views across parliament, the river, and the city at large. In front of this building however is about a dozen of the Metropolitans Police officers…
Despite feeling quite nervous, I start walking with confidence towards them. I try and avoid eye contact by pretending to read one of the many dot matrix signs erected along the police line. “NO CLIMBING ON BUILDINGS OR MONUMENTS”.
My hand grips an ice cold steel beam as I pull myself up the final couple of feet onto the roof deck. The freezing night air buffets my ear drums creating a uniform white noise punctuated only by the drone of approaching sirens. I look downwards to try and prevent my hair whipping in my eyes; ground level is a sea of hi-viz bathed in swirling blue lights I spot the yellow dot matrix sign blinking away, still insisting me not to climb any buildings…
Thanks for reading.
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Sat against the warm extract from the kitchen, they were cooking curry:
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UrbanX, Mr Dan, Priority7, Sweetpea, Dirty Jigsaw.
Thanks for looking.
Months of plotting had led him to be here, hiding 36 barrels of gunpowder from vagabonds and the authorities. I had only spent a few minutes in the plotting phase, but am now trying to hide my expensive camera from vagabonds and the authorities. Which is proving difficult because tonight thousands of protesters in Guy Fawkes masks are swarming the square, along with 600 riot police.
Seventeen storeys above me looms a beautiful flat roof. It stands directly opposite Big Ben, just slightly higher than the clock face, with views across parliament, the river, and the city at large. In front of this building however is about a dozen of the Metropolitans Police officers…
Despite feeling quite nervous, I start walking with confidence towards them. I try and avoid eye contact by pretending to read one of the many dot matrix signs erected along the police line. “NO CLIMBING ON BUILDINGS OR MONUMENTS”.
My hand grips an ice cold steel beam as I pull myself up the final couple of feet onto the roof deck. The freezing night air buffets my ear drums creating a uniform white noise punctuated only by the drone of approaching sirens. I look downwards to try and prevent my hair whipping in my eyes; ground level is a sea of hi-viz bathed in swirling blue lights I spot the yellow dot matrix sign blinking away, still insisting me not to climb any buildings…
Thanks for reading.
1.
2.
3.
4.
Sat against the warm extract from the kitchen, they were cooking curry:
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
UrbanX, Mr Dan, Priority7, Sweetpea, Dirty Jigsaw.
Thanks for looking.
