Lights come up on Matt, wearing a helmet and a shiny space suit.  He stares up into the sky as if he were watching fireworks, but they happen to have been the same fireworks for weeks.  He clicks on a little tape recorder... A Play.

The sun was dying.  The scientists predicted there would be 15 more years of light.

A play

Ahmed falls from the steel deck thick with diesel oil and malice, through a rain unlike anything he’s known...

The night before my Bat Mitzvah, slap bang in the middle of the brief Quiet Season, Grandfather Feder appropriates the steambus while the boorish village elders sleep off hunger...

Man felt incredibly pleased with himself, sitting as he did, on the very top of the food chain...

The sleeping goddesses in the aisle seats would have radiated a celestial emerald light had Banba not cast a protective, dulling shield over the sozzled pair...

By the time you read this anything might have happened. She might have fallen in love by the time you read this. By the time you read this she might be dead. For that’s just how it works. Don’t feel bad for reading. It’s just how things work...