The full text of an article that recently appeared in parts in Fire to the Prisons 6.
Preface: A Measure of Power
It is the dead of night, or perhaps a little later. Three individuals are preparing to depart from their house, where they live, cook, laugh, read, and sleep. Tonight, of course, they are not sleeping—wide awake, they gather a few prepared supplies, feeling the preliminary surge of adrenaline through their bodies. Masks, gloves, disposable clothing, hammers, and spray paint are all that is required. They depart on bicycles towards the city center. In the darkness, the only noise is six narrow bike tires whispering across the pavement. The traffic lights along the main street flash yellow and red, dim mannequins stare out from store windows, an occasional passerby walks home from the local bar. Our comrades smile with satisfaction at the nearly deserted metropolis, as the quiet possibility of night embraces each of them.
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