Your hands ache and torn cuticles bleed. Callouses are beginning to develop on your fingers, but you still envy the English workers, who work with gloves. Your back also aches, and you wonder how many hours you have spent under the hot sun.
Insomnia is a theatre piece interspersed with pre-recorded video segments and (a minimal) amount of audience interaction, further supported by fiction and a pen and paper RPG, all of which explore its characters and the central themes of insomnia and what may lie beyond sleep. I wrote a short story concerning one of these insomniacs!
“At nights the centre becomes a ghost town, punctuated by enclaves of life where tourists congregate in restaurants and bars near historic museums, galleries and theatres. Elsewhere local businesses and residents are long gone”
“It was the Stalker that spoke. Its voice grated on the senses, like a dozen knifeblades being drawn over metal and concrete, but beneath that there was a melancholic timbre, the impossibility of poetry lurking beneath monstrosity.”
“There was something clinging to the ceiling. A nightmarish figure of spikes and rails and blades, with six dimly glimmering eyes set into a squat head. Four of its limbs were driven into the ceiling, suspending it, and the other two reached toward Bearer and the Gun.”
“To those versed in the art of murder, a gun is understood as an impersonal tool.”
“Above her a dead sky cavorts in whirls and swirls as it spits poison and lightning.”
“He began to scream for help, for forgiveness, for mercy, for everything he could think of, until his lungs were raw and empty of air.”
“They say that in cryogenic sleep, it is common to dream in a disjointed fashion.”