D is clearing an old studio space. A concrete black box. It’s at a university. He has already removed his equipment. He puts scrap metal and rubbish into a soiled, old, duvet cover. In another bag, he puts clothes, that he had forgotten he’d left there. He realises that he will have to return for them later. The janitor asks when he will be finished, as another plan has been submitted from the room. He worries about this, but figures that getting stuff out by today, should be ok. 
The janitors stroll off, fondling hedgehogs that they carry. D goes to collect some final paperwork. He sees R in the office, stacked high with files. R asks him to shutdown the computer, as R is leaving to teach. D can’t find the files. They’re in the office next door. To get there, he squeezes out of a tiny window, across tall wooden shelves, attached to the red brick underside of a bridge across the Thames. One shelf is missing, and he has to crawl across a large piece of luggage instead. 
In the next office, on another shelf, D can’t find his shoes. J jokes about times he has played practical jokes on him, and smears mud on their faces. J and S leave through a door. D doesn’t have a key, and has to climb back along the precarious shelves. The tiny window is shut. D looks at booklets defining maritime flag signal meanings. The shelf begins to collapse. D tries to hold it back against the wall, with no success. He falls, landing in the wet mud of the Thames, now a cobbled road, full of construction activity. An estate agent, wearing a shirt and tie, but with a popped collar, walks by, on his mobile, and networking with everyone he meets working in the street. 
D looks up. Unsure of how to get back up. No ladder or scaffold to climb. He follows the cobbles, and sees a gap in a wall, poorly blocked by a red front door. He squeezes by, and re-ascends. On the path, he sees O, dressed as if he’s going to a wedding, but sleeping in a wicker basket. D passes, and enters the university building. It is a twisting web of stairways and corridors, off a central, square, design. 
D is stopped by L. There’s some vegan food he wants D to try. Every time D picks up a bit, someone else wants it. It looks like a red, mushy, tomato-cauliflower. He tastes it. Pleasant enough. He looks round to sees a workman spit on D’s dayglo yellow backpack. It’s an accident. D asks him to clean it off, adding ‘you twat’ at the end. This offends the workman. Instead he offers to let D punch him. D tries to reason, and the workman runs off. D follows, but can’t find him. 
Returning to the food, D’s bag is gone. He asks if anyone has seen it. S says yes, and they run after a crazy drama student dressed all in yellow. Finding her, her bag is made of yellow fur. Inside, only stage masks. D leaves, apologetic and disappointed. 
D finds the back entrance to his studio, now being used as a theatre space. He asks the company if they have his stuff. They say he is welcome to look, but that the performance space is cleared. D searches the dressing room. He hears knocking from a wicker picnic basket. Inside, E struggles to escape. She’s dressed in a mixture of bridal and belly dance costume. 
The company Director asks if D can help them. They’re a person short. The director shows D what to do. 
The director is sat cross legged on the stage, for about ten minutes, sewing. D enters, and follows a path along the semicircle of the audiences chairs, making a repeated sucking noise with his teeth, and frantically moving his right index finger between the two middle fingers of his left hand. When he reaches the director, he is to shake his head at him, in admonishment. D agrees to do this. There’s ten minutes before they start. D needs the toilet. The director tells him that the only one is on the opposite side of the square. The actors call this last minute toilet dash the ‘lady mile’, no one has managed to do it before curtain up. D determines to try. 
He doesn’t run, but walks quickly, using a stick with a prickly end to gain traction on the psychologically slowing carpet. At the corner, a choice of stairs and escalators awaits him. D slides down the slope between the two, gaining speed, and hitting the shiny floor beneath, slides away at great speed, dodging around people and dogs in his path. 
He sees kids on hover mats. These are thin membranes, with slightly raised areas, that you stand on to power and direct them. He tries one. 
He is successful. The play has begun, but D is back in time to take his place. He improvises, admonishing the audience as he enters. The audience are all characters from this day. 
As he reaches the Director, he says
“Do you know what a shit day I’ve had?”


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