An excerpt from my first full-length play, Heroes.


Jesus decided to kill himself on the day he blew his nose and a spider came out. It hadn’t been a particularly bad day. Robyn had recently refused to marry him, but that was beside the point.

Robyn liked to keep conkers in her pockets and turn them in her fingers every now and then. She liked to fall asleep in fields and wake up when everything was blue. She liked to lie on the carpet when her father was playing the guitar downstairs. She liked a lot of things.

Jesus liked a lot of things too. That made sense. Quite an achievement, he thought. What else made sense, to him at least, was to do it slightly differently.

He didn’t have to talk much, and that meant he got to listen. He liked to think this made him seem enigmatic, and possibly gave him the time to be so.

He wasn’t especially averse to spiders. That just happened to happen.


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