Rhythm Of Uniformity

• Ryan Grace, Grade 11, Coffs Harbour Senior College
• Short Story
• 2017

Finalist in the 'Write Here Write Now 2017' competition

Left. Right. Left. Right. Listen to the rhythm of uniformity. Can you hear the beat of the march? Everyone, everywhere, perfect timing, perfect spacing, all heading to a destination of similar occupation. An occupation that adds more to the beat. The sounds of paperwork simultaneously being filled in and filed. The sound of the same numbers being calculated and presented, the sound of students with pen on paper taking the same notes from the same lecture. Left. Right. Left. Right. Boom. Boom. Boom. Wake. Work. Sleep. Wake. Work. Sleep. The never-ending repetition of so called perfection. There are rules to follow, so many rules, to make sure everyone is the same. The same clothes, the same equipment, the same person. No individuality. No independence. No freedom. Specific designation over everything that is you, as well as all the others. For a nation to be truly perfect, all must be far better than equal, all must be one.
During a designated sustenance break, a teenaged boy of empowering stature and appearance, notices a wild looking girl completely out of order. Confused by this abnormality he gets up and cautiously approaches. As he gets closer he becomes aware of how enticing this abnormality is. Long wild red hair curling all over the place and a soft petite build. Continuing to look out into the distance she sighs in a soothing tone.
“It gets boring doesn’t it” the boy being unprepared for the situation seizes up, so she continues.
“I mean the beat our society creates, it’s always the same.” She finally turns to see him and notices his attire. Both wearing the same white button up shirt and the same black pants. His being tidy, neat and clean. The shirt tucked in and not a wrinkle with in sight. Hers being an atrocity, shirt untucked, appearing to be made of winkles and stained with all the colours of nature.
“Oh, you haven’t noticed then have you?” She asks almost pitifully.
“No - noticed what?” She pauses wearing a quizzical expression.
“Alright come to me but don’t tell me when you start.” She then turns on her heel and walks about ten meters away. Too intrigued by this girl the boy decides to follow her instructions. He waits for a bit then follows. As he approaches he can hear her muttering rhythmically. Closer still and he hears.
“Left. Right. Left. Right.” In time with his own pace. The girl opens her eyes and smiles at his puzzled expression.
“Take a good look around, can you see it?” Slowly looking around it dawned on him how uniform everything truly is. The rest of his classmates sitting in a perfect grid, moving as one, they simultaneously stand, pick up their bags, and head back towards class. The girl whispers in his ear with slight malice, almost aggressive tone.
“Listen to the rhythm of uniformity. Can you, hear the beat of the march?”