It was only a tiny draft when it first saw light. So small.
Just a short story featuring a single confession scene, with some twists and turns. Then it grew, both in size and in curiosity for the world, and as every little story that has a single scene and consists mainly of dialogue – it wanted, no it stomped and screamed and begged to be a play script. Not an epic poem or a novel mind you. A play script. Kids! What can you do?
Then… then the unmentionable happened and playing outside was not allowed anymore. No fun in rehearsals, no running at a good ol’ physical stage. Only lockdown and the emptiness of virtual space.
The story kept begging though!
I couldn’t leave it like that, not when it’s one of my own. But how to help the critter grow into a fully developed play in these conditions? Zoom backgrounds and make-believe did not seem nourishing enough.
Thankfully, people helped me by finding all kinds of ways to continue life, even in these quarantined times. Priests in England conducted sermons online, vis Skype, via Zoom, and all the other googly video apps. Yeah true, sometimes with comical outcomes, but still they managed.
So did the characters in the story. Father Griff went online too, greeting people in his living room, on his laptop, rather than in the church confession booth. Angela’s old trade found its virtual reincarnation as well. They all succeeded into making this transition, they made the journey from the old Newtonian world into the digital one.
Their life predicaments made the journey too. It doesn’t matter how virtual you go, it turns out, some parts of life will always follow you.
Text: Vladislav Nenchev