Hugo Docking

The land of Deep Shadow

(An excerpt from Dustbeard – A radio play I started writing about a lone presenter stuck in an old radio tower on a post-apocalyptic island, with only old archived tapes from the past to keep him company. He uses the tower to broadcast a weekly radio show to the unfortunate inhabitants of the island.)

In a land far away from here, yet somehow, all so close. Small shadows mill and meander. They sit, and work, and dance and dream. They dream in shadows. Somewhere, in one unimportant corner of this shadowy world, a small shadow sits. Shadowy head in shadowy hands it weeps shadowy tears. They fall down it’s shadowy cheek like tiny ink droplets flicked from a shadowy quill onto blank, white paper. If you were to look for this figure, you would not see it for it sits, in a shadowy room, in a shadowy house on a shadowy street. Without this information you would be forgiven for seeing simply a blank black space, and you would think nothing of the oh so faint snivels, and the slow drips of muffled tears.

This figure knows nothing of our world, nothing of colour and of light. Yet we too know nothing of it’s world. We cannot see the intricacies and complexities of the darkness. We cannot see the shadowy roads in this shadowy world, with the shadowy houses and the shadowy streetlights which illuminate the town with deeper darker darkness. We cannot know why this figure is crying. We cannot ask it, as it’s language is so different to ours. It speaks in echoes, and silence.

The figure is deformed and twisted, as deformed as a shadow can be. If it could talk to you, which it can’t, if it could explain with animated gestures, which it can’t, it would say:

“Love. Love took them both away from me. Love equates only to un-love, from which only evil and madness can thrive. The origin of every tragedy is love, and love always ends in tragedy. We were always doomed. And now, I know only shadows.”

Then it would wipe it’s shadowy tear’s with it’s shadowy hand and continue to sit, alone in one unimportant corner of it’s dark, shadowy world.