After The Apocalypse

Four Horseman of the Apocalypse by Viktor Vasnetsov, 1887

Given some of the characters I included in my first screenplay (When You Dine With The Devil, first draft finished last Friday) it seems I could be developing an obsession with the four horsemen of the apocalypse. I submitted my first play (of 28) earlier this afternoon to the '28 Plays Later' project organised by The Space, a performing arts centre on the Isle of Dogs, East London; not far from where I used to live in Tower Hamlets back in the early 1980s. 

It seems I can't leave alone those four riders from the Book of Revelation. I've put them at the heart of my response to the first challenge of '28 Plays Later' -- a whole new play each brand new day.

Our first challenge came through the e.mail in these terms:

So… as you’ve probably noticed, the financial stake this year has gone up to 19.28 (as I said, blame Trump… Brexit… etc. - see below for super special bonus points)

So for today’s challenge, let’s write a play about “19/28". Perhaps a play about something that costs exactly £19.28. Perhaps a play that starts at 19:28 or ends at 19:28. Maybe set the play in 1928… or research the year 1928 and be inspired by something that happened that year. Maybe the play is a dialogue between two people - a 19 year-old and a 28 year-old. How about a play that lasts exactly 19 minutes and 28 seconds? Or maybe spend that time to write the play. Oooh… how about a play titled “when nine teens ate tea” (almost all the syllables)? Or a play set in the junction of 19th and 28th streets… something like that. The possibilities are endless… well… I guess not endless. They have an end. Like most things in life. Apart from things with no end.

Make sure your play has an end! We can’t write a never-ending play, can we? CAN WE?!?! Hmmm… we’ll see about that.

And this is how I began ...

A DESOLATE CROSSROADS IN A BLEAK WASTELAND.  AT THE JUNCTION, A CITY STREET SIGN INDICATES ONE ROUTE IS 19^TH STREET.  THE OTHER IS 28^TH AVENUE.

A RIDER, CLAD IN A GREAT WHITE CLOAK, LEADS A JET-BLACK HORSE DOWN 19^TH STREET TO THE JUNCTION AND, THERE, TIES THE REINS OF THE HORSE TO THE SIGNPOST. THE RIDER REMOVES HIS HELMET, LOOKS ABOUT THEN SPEAKS TO THE HORSE.

Enough already with the deathly horse riders Douglas! (At least mine have gender-parity: two sisters, two brothers from one doom-laden family). The point, though, is: my first play is in. On to day two and play two, a version of The ballad of Tam Lin. Maybe.