PASSION PLAY EXTRACT

Passion Play

I dreamed I came out on a stage set up for the performance of a play. The set was the shell of an old church which had been bombed out in an air raid.

There were tiers of benches on either side of the stage, and a troop of men filed in and sat down on these seats.

They were dressed like monks in blue robes, and they had hoods on so you couldn’t see their faces.

My first husband, Roger, came out onto the stage. He was dressed in dark blue robes which covered him from head to foot. Only his face and hands were visible. His face was beautiful, calm and grave.

“This is my play,” he said to me. “I have written and produced it all.”

I was pleased with him, proud that he should be producing his own play.

“What’s the play about?” I asked him.

“It’s a Passion Play,” he replied. “I plead with her, and pray to her, but she will never love me and so she must be crucified.”

© Harris Smart, 2003

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