Shavindra Fernando; The Vague Poetess ...as paperback
Threshold of Rebellion
At two o’clock in the morning, the bus returning with the cast arrived at the university.
Suddenly the headlights flashed onto a barricade of old barrels across the lane, and three guards stopped the bus.
“Sir, didn’t you hear?”
“No, what happened?”
“Yesterday evening…. Mr. Henry, ….shot dead .”
“No!”
They remained in stunned silence.
”We were in Colombo with the play…we didn’t hear”
Then one of the guards turned around slowly and pointed towards the Senate House, which glowed as if a great fire was beyond it.
“…and then this happened …. at about midnight.”
“What…. happened?”
“Sir,….ten boys and a girl,…..they have been beheaded,… and they are burning on a pyre of tyres.”
