Month: February 2019

 The woman is at the airport. She is sitting in an armchair, recording her voice. She is calm and relaxed. Behind her, an airplane can be seen through a large window. The woman: You know what?! When there is no writer writing your story, everything looks scary at first. You feel stressed and lonely. You … Read more

The Man and the Woman are in the platform of Lancaster station in London. They are both stressed and nervous. The Man is looking at the station clock, and the Woman is looking at him. It is late at night and the platform is almost empty. The Woman breaks the silence. The Woman: Why are … Read more

The Woman and the Man are both in the basement. They are sitting on a mat facing each other. There is a candle in the middle. They look exhausted. The Man: When I saw you for the first time in that small bookshop, leafing through The Name of The Rose, looking at the pages with … Read more

The Woman is still in the same basement. Another day has passed, and she is even more distressed. She sits in a corner and holds her head in her hands. The sound of steps. She stands up, runs to the door and shouts for help. The Woman: Help…. Please, help me…Is somebody there? Do you … Read more

The Woman is alone in a room with no windows, a small bed, a toilet in the corner and a small fridge next to the bed. She is wearing the same clothes she was wearing the last time we saw her in St Andrews. It seems she has been imprisoned in this room for a … Read more

The man is sitting on the same bench that the woman was sitting on earlier in the play. She is facing the north sea with a view of the West Coast. He is murmuring the melody of the same Iranian folk song that the woman was singing. He is eating a sandwich. There are many … Read more

Videos of Iran-Iraq war are projected on the walls, floor and the ceiling. The Man, and his father are sitting centre stage, surrounded by these disturbing pictures, as if they are overwhelmed by them. The Man: Would you please stop conjuring up these memories, father?! This is not a usual nightmare. This is not a … Read more

The Man and Aflah are sitting on the balcony of a small cafe in Crail, facing the sea. Aflah does not speak. He is listening to the Man who is speaking impatiently. The Man: I wish I could… I mean I could wash away all my worries in the sea. But that is impossible. How … Read more

The map of St Andrews on the floor. The man is walking on the map, as if he is walking through the town. He is somewhere on South street. The Man: (to himself) I know this is South Street, one of the three main streets of this small town. So I start here. (To an … Read more

  A 35-year-old man is standing in the bus station of St Andrews with a backpack on his right shoulder. He is from Iraq, with black eyes and black hair. 35 Messages are projected on different places: on his body, on the wall behind him and on the floor. It seems he is looking for … Read more

The Woman is sitting on a bench  with her suitcase. Her eyes are red as if she has been crying. She is speaking with Hamish McHamish. The Woman: Hamish! How many rats did you catch in your life? 100? 1000? 3000? More? Less? How did you like them? How did they taste? 11 days ago … Read more

In front of the entrance of the flat. Somebody is knocking on the door. Carmona, the writer in residence–a 65-year-old Mexican lady– goes towards the door to open it. The woman rushes after her to stop her.  Carmona: What are you doing? The Woman: Please, don’t! Carmona: What? The Woman: I said, ‘please, don’t open … Read more

The office of Dr. Aflah. The Woman with a violet scarf wrapped around her shoulders and Dr. Aflah are sitting on office chairs, facing each other. Dr Aflah: Can you, please, say your name again? The Woman: I just said it again. I assume you got it the second time. Dr Aflah: So why am … Read more

Darkness. the voice of the Writer can be heard. Voice of the Writer: This is the 7th Day I am here in St. Andrews as a writer in residence. I have written 6 very short plays for each day. So each play –consciously or unconsciously– has a sense of my daily experience. This is the … Read more

  Cemetery. A Stone cross in the middle of the stage.  The woman stands in front of the audience, looking at them for a few seconds in silence. Then, she goes toward the Cross and kneels down. The Woman: Akh Baba! Baba! Forgive me for all my sins. Forgive me for failing to be a … Read more

Singing an Iranian folk song, the woman– in a green coat– is sitting on a bench near the West Sands facing the sea. She has her coffee and cake. There are many seagulls, either flying or siting on the rocks. She is throwing small pieces of her cake for them. A man and a woman … Read more