So, today I won’t be writing some imaginative response. Instead, I’ve decided to share a memory that has bothered me for a while. I have an identical twin sister. We look very similar (obviously as we are identical twins). On a chilly night last winter we left our home to go to the chippy, holding hands we laughed walking down the frosted streets. Just to give context, we live in a rural town in devon that is stuck in time with both its views as well as its run down image. We got screamed at. On the main high street of our town, a man yelled that “he could show us a better time” and demanded that two girls should not be holding hands.
- We were obviously sisters. Both wearing worn jeans and cosy coats, hair merging together in colour and smiles identical.
- This wasn’t late, around seven perhaps? In the middle of a well light street that serves for our town’s main shops (a single co-op).
- Everyone ignored this. Hoods down families kept walking as if we were some terror, an evening demon ready to drag the souls of youth down with us.
What upsets me the most, though, is that I couldn’t say anything. His taller frame and strong build terrified me. He had worn shoes that could sprint faster than I, and his snarled expressions held a worn power that I just couldn’t overcome. I wanted to yell. Not that we were sisters, no, that thought didn’t occur to my mind until after we entered the warmth of the fryers. I wanted to scream that his views were outdated, how dare he disrupt two women walking hand in hand. Rant over.