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Some things can't be explained.

The kettle in the green room boils of its own accord, and the dressing room door refuses to stay locked. In the office we shared, your prized copy of An Actor Prepares regularly disappears for days at a time. It always turns up in the most unexpected of places.

This building is old, seeped in history, and you use this as an excuse even when it makes no sense. You laugh or ignore these happenings altogether, but deep down I think you know the truth.

You don't abandon the things you love.

I am still here.

Story by:

Anna Sanderson


27 August 2016