A Journey by Eva-Jane Gaffney

Lights up on an actor, mid 20s-mid 30s, sitting in the middle of the stage. They have a
suitcase and a bottle of water by their side. They take a deep breath in and out.

There are 4 lamps on the stage, all switched off. They are all different sizes and designs.

Is it sustainable?

Lamp #1 bings on.

Is it healthy?

Lamp #2 bings on.

Is it good for me?

Lamp #3 bings on.

Is it cruelty free?

Lamp #4 bings on.

....
Is it sustainable?
An bhfuil sé inbhuanaithe?

They take another deep breath in and out, this time is slightly more exasperated.

I don’t know sometimes, like.. you’d be a bit lost now and then, wouldn’t you? A bit
overwhelmed? Uaireanta sílim go bhfuil gach doras dúnta.
I mean, I just find it hard to understand, personally, tá sé deacair domsa é a thuiscint.
Agus tá sé deacair domsa labhairt faoi.

They stand up.

Ruby is ainm dom.
I don’t have anything to sustain.
I mean, I’m sustaining this hat and this jumper and this suitcase but I don’t own... things.
And it’s hard to focus on sustaining when you don’t have things… the big things..
Y’know? Níl siad agam.
Ní raibh siad agam.
An mbeidh siad agam?

They look at the plastic bottle of water beside them for a moment.

Shit.

and then back to us.
No, I don’t own a keepcup.
I don’t own a home.
I don’t own a car.
Technically I don’t even own a wardrobe.
I rent someone else's.
Deartair nach bhfuil aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin. Should we stop saying that?

It’s hard sometimes y’know, everything on telly and online and on the radio is must-do
tips and tricks and life hacks but when you don’t have the required part of the
aforementioned life to hack it’s hard to deal with that constant advertisement of
greenness.

We hear an audio mashup of ads and interviews promoting greener living, hybrid cars,
sustainable packaging, vegan and cruelty free products. Ruby mimics these along with
the track in her best range of voiceover voices. The lamps start to flicker.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s great that there’s a huge emphasis on sustainability for my
generation, it’s just really not great that none of my peers have na rudaí mór. Things
have never been like this before.

Ruby is trying to fix the lamps but the stage keeps getting darker slowly, the ads still play
all fuzzy and distorted, Ruby has to be heard over this commotion.

We’re all looking to make this brighter future for ourselves and it’s making the present
really dark.. really, really dark.

The lights are very low now, we can just about see Ruby in the darkness.

Cá bhfuil an dóchas? There’s no doubt that we’re being seen and heard, but I don’t know
if we’re being understood. It’s not enough to only be understood by the people who feel
the same as you.
Tá súil agam go bhfuil an dóchas ionam.
Tá a fhios agam go bhfuil an dóchas sa pháistí.

Ruby gives up on the lamps. They continue to flicker in a low light.

Ach tá a fhios agam go bhfuil siad fíor-chliste chomh maith.
They can see that we’re worried, they feel it from us.
They know we don’t own our own wardrobes and they wonder why.
That’s why I’m going.
I need to stare at the sea for a while.
I need to go somewhere where someday I might own one of the big things.

She picks up her suitcase.

Lights out.

​

Eva-Jane Gaffney is an actor and voiceover artist from Dublin. Previous stage work includes HEROIN (2018), Rapids and Danny & Chantelle (Still Here). Screen credits include Wastewater, Rosie and Sing Street & Éirí amach Amú. She encourages people to speak what bits of Gaeilge they know no matter the level.
Twitter: @evajanez
Insta: @evajanegaffney

BEDTIME by Aoife Delany-Reade
​
Low lighting. Charlie stands centre stage. They are one of us.

Charlie:

Who would’ve thought it was that easy?

Charlie takes a step forward. Lights fade up. They talk to us.

Roll out of bed. Feet greet the ground before Alarm begins to shout her worries of the day.

Today’s the day.
A day of change.
My bed is getting made.

Not for fear of scolding or mould growing- though they so often do the trick, but from Other. From a subtle spark of care that slowly lights a fire.

Something has changed.
Today’s the day- the same as any other.
But now the bed is made.

Head downstairs.
Descending like the rain from today’s everyday sky.
But it’s not an obstacle anymore.
Not something to ignore or shy away from, but an element to embrace.

So, with coated body and determined face I step-

Charlie takes an intentional step forward. Rain is heard.

Charlie:

-outside into downpour.

I walk my usual route to my usual routine, and am surprised to be greeted with something other than usual.

The faceless masses I customly pass are looking up, and… smiling towards me? A din of warmth greets the cold air. An exchange amongst strangers.

A gentle din is heard.

Charlie:
To my surprise I smile back. We greet each other in a strange way. Strange because we are finally meeting each other. Masses find their meaning again in an individual way. We’re blessed that something has changed. We’ve made our bed today.

Charlie takes another step forward. The gentle din fades.

Charlie:

I carry on and come to the underpass. Regular home of the cider lads - dodging
school - whose blaring tunes and wisps of wizardly smoke spell ‘You Shall Not Pass’.

But it’s empty. They’ve gone away.
Back to their worried mothers-seen at last, or integrated with the masses and made their way to class.
The boys’ve been replaced.
With bunk-bed upon bunk-bed of blankets and pillows settled perfectly in place.

I’m not sure how long they’ve been gone.
Then again, when did I last look their way?

Something’s settled in their place.

Pause. Charlie takes another step forward

Charlie:

I emerge from the tunnel’s other side, and carry on my every day.
Repetition after repetition.
This time in a different way.
Change upon subtle change.
Worldly-human interplay.

We try. Things get better.

Pause. Charlie takes a step forward.

As time passes, the sun returns to it’s freshly made bed. As routine passes, I return to house, transformed to home- myself carried with it.

Not from want or will, but from beginning's smallest step.

Pause.

In the remnants of housely habit-I turn on the news.
Not out of morbidity or distraction, but from want to engage.
To see what else has changed.

The sound of static plays.

But nothing plays. There’s nothing left to report.
No tragedy or disaster or gradual decline.
The smoke has stopped, the oceans calmed and for the first time in however long- everything is…

...okay.

Not from structural change, or political play- but from subtle changes in our subtle ways.

Pause.

Charlie:

For once, I’m not tired, I’m energised by lack.

Pause. A gentle, rhythmic beat plays. Soothing.

The moon peeks it’s head and sleepy stars begin to shine, the world can rest, knowing we’re doing fine.

We can rest, knowing the world is going to be…

...okay.

It’s time to make our bed.

Who would’ve thought it was that easy?

​
Aoife Delany Reade is a tiny, all encompassing fragment of the universe. Working primarily as a director and writer, Delany Reade is drawn to liminality: worlds suspended between fact and fiction; magic masquerading in mundanity. She is co-artistic director of war/war/war Theatre, a space created to formally acknowledge the unified-yet ever-shifting nature of collective collaboration she engages in.
www.facebook.com/warwarwartheatre

The New Friday by Grace Collender
​

Mora, 15, sits on her bedroom floor with a “Strike for Climate” sign.

Mora: I sit in my room and she calls me -

Mam and Mora: MORA! MORA! MORA!

Mora: But I sit here. Waiting. Doing nothing really, let’s face it. But something, still. Striking.

A screen is projected onto Mora’s face and the blank wall behind her. Greta Thunberg speech plays. Mora looks forward, as if watching:

Greta: “This is all wrong. I shouldn’t be up here. I should be back in school on the other side of the ocean. Yet you all come to us young people for hope?”--

Mam: (from downstairs) Will you turn that thing off!

Mora: (to audience) She doesn’t understand. (shouting to Mam) You don’t understand!

Mam runs upstairs and pounds on the door. Mora pauses video.

Mam: We’re not doing this again. Get up, you’re going in.

Mora: I’m saving the world?

Mam opens door.

Mam: Well then I’m calling the Guards.

Mora: The Guards.

Mam: Up. Over my dead body are you going to piss your future down the sink.

Mora looks at her and plays the Greta Thunberg video in response:

Greta: “Why should I be studying for a future that soon will be no more when no one is doing anything whatsoever to save that future.”

Mora pauses video.

Mam: It’s me that’ll need saving after listening to all you little snowflakes.

Mora: (deadpan) Soon there’ll be no snowflakes. It’ll be too hot. And all the metaphorical ones will be dead.

Mam: Well then I’ll be happy. My tan needs a good top up. Now get up.

Mam leaves. Mora presses play on the video. Full volume. She barricades the door with a chair. Mam struggles to get back in.

Greta: “Some people say that Sweden is just a small country and that it doesn’t matter what we do. But I think that if a few children can get headlines all over the world just by not going to school for a few weeks, imagine what we could all do together if you wanted to.”

Mam: You do know if you miss more than 20 days of school --

Mora: Mam, this is important --

Mam: I can literally go to jail --

Mora: Did you know that Ireland didn’t meet their 2020 EU emission targets and now we have to pay up to €500 million annually in compensation?

Mam: Did you know you need a Leaving Cert to make money?

Mora: Did you know Ireland ranks worst in the EU for climate action? Did you know that climate change already causes 150,000 deaths every year and rising? Did you know we literally have 10 years to sort all of this out or we’ll drown and burn and die?

Beat.

Mam: Why are you doing this to me?

Mora: I’m doing this for you.

Beat. Mam deflates and goes downstairs.

Mora: (to audience) I dream of Fridays being like any other day. I’d get to go to school and not worry about problems that adults should be dealing with. I’d get to worry about my future, not whether or not I’ll have one. I’d get to plan to have a family and not worry that my child will be born into a world that will die. I’d get to go to ALDI and not see a “Not Yet Recyclable” sign. I’d get to know that my world is safe, that my family is safe, that I am safe. And until then, this is the new Friday.

Mam puts a glass of water and toast at the bedroom door. She leaves for work.

End.
​
​

Grace Collender is an actor and writer. Her recent acting work includes productions with The Abbey Theatre, Kilkenny Arts Festival, Cork Midsummer Festival, BBC and Screen Ireland. Grace’s undergraduate essay concerning the work of Caryl Churchill won the Regional Global Undergraduate Award 2019. She is represented by The Susannah Norris Agency.
Twitter: @GraceCollender
Instagram: gracecollender

As part of the MA Cultural Policy & Arts Management programme at UCD, we were required to complete a work placement with an organisation of our choosing. My interest in the performing arts led me to join the Fishamble team as Marketing and Development intern from March to June 2020. Although the MA prepared me for a lot, what it didn't prepare me for was a global pandemic. Needless to say, the placement didn't go as expected, but I did enjoy the ride! 

Initially, I was supposed to assist Chandrika (Marketing and Development Manager) - amongst other things - with the marketing plan for Fishamble's Dublin Theatre Festival production as well as sponsorship applications. As a result of the disruptions caused by the Covid-19 pandemic, the nature of my work changed significantly; the workload becoming lighter - but arguably more varied - than expected. Luckily, I was able to support Fishamble in a number of ways. I assisted with their digital marketing, creating a twitter archive for both the last production before government restrictions came into place and to document the organisation’s response to the global pandemic on twitter. Secondly, I added subtitles to a recording of ‘Inside the GPO’ to make it more accessible for viewers, which Fishamble streamed on its YouTube channel over the Easter weekend. In addition, I was tasked with reading and helping to select short plays submitted as part of Fishamble's #TinyPlayChallenge and also created the marketing plan for Fishamble’s TINY PLAYS 24/7 (coming to a screen near you July 24th!). Other tasks included prospect research of potential partners and sponsors as well as research into diversity and equality policies in the wake of the resurgence of the Black Lives Matter movement.  

Although the placement turned out to be very different from what I expected when I first interviewed for the position, I still feel like my work was relevant to the organisation; especially considering the importance of digital marketing and performances for arts organisations, which has become more apparent than ever during the current Covid-19 crisis. Additionally, the renewed interest in Black Lives Matter and equal opportunities for people of colour highlighted the need for an extensive diversity, equality, and inclusion policy, which Fishamble is currently in the process of drafting, and my research into such policies will hopefully contribute to making the organisation an even more inclusive space.

Unfortunately, government restrictions also meant that I didn't get to meet all the amazing team members in person, but I greatly enjoyed working with them, and I am hoping that our paths will cross again soon! Until then, so long, and thanks for all the fish!     



Originally from Vienna, Christelle is a recent BA Media and Communication Studies graduate from the University of Hamburg, and is currently finishing her MA in Cultural Policy & Arts Management at UCD.     

Keep your creativity flowing with Fishamble's #TinyPlayChallenge
In these challenging times, Fishamble - along with many of our colleagues in the wider Irish artistic community - is working hard to keep imaginations lively, communities engaged - and most of all offer people the opportunity of creative expression. We asked our audiences: Would you welcome the challenge of exploring your thoughts and feelings through drama? Do you have a dramatic story that you feel the urge to work out for yourself, and maybe share with your fellow citizens?
​Below is one of the chosen plays from our global submissions.


​
Characters:
Dave – 30s
Ed – 20s
 
Lights up slowly on a single desk DSL with a pneumatic tube coming down from the ceiling just above it. Dave sits at the desk, at a computer. Ed stands under the tube. He catches a parcel that falls out of it and starts to unwrap it, taking out a photograph and a note.
 
DAVE:   What do we have?
 
ED:   Let’s see…
 
An image of a man and woman at a New Year’s Eve party, smiling at the camera projects onto the back wall.
 
Uhhh, okay, standard. She says that it’s her now-ex boyfriend of four years, she wants him erased from the picture, and, also asks if we can remove the red eye.
 
DAVE:   Simple.
 
On the projection we see Dave’s work. The man slowly disappears under the computer cursor, and the flash is removed from the woman’s eyes. Dave also makes her mouth imperceptibly bigger. He chuckles.
 
I like doing that sometimes. And, send to print.
 
He hits a key and the image disappears. They wait.
 
ED:   I wonder what happened.
 
DAVE:   Hmm?
 
ED:   With them. The boyfriend.
 
DAVE:   He probably cheated. That’s the case with most of the ones I’ve seen.
 
ED:   Yeah. Do you usually fuck around with it like that? With the facial features?
 
DAVE:   Ah, sometimes. It’s just my own little joke. It’s for me.
 
Ed laughs politely. They wait. Another parcel drops out of the tube, Ed catches it, repeats the process. An old image of a small child on a bike, with a man steadying him, both laughing.
 
ED:   Okay, his dad refused to put him in the will because of a dispute over money, so he wants his dad replaced with a dog of some sort so that he looks more impressive for outrunning the dog.
 
Dave chuckles and repeats his process, the image changes with the father gone and a dog in his place. He hits send. They wait.

ED:   Do you think there’s something immoral about this?
 
DAVE:   How?
 
ED:   Messing with people’s possessions. Their memories.
 
DAVE:   It’s a job. And is it immoral if they’re asking for it?
 
ED:   I suppose not.
 
DAVE:   If it pays well, I’ll do it.
 
ED:   Me too, I suppose.
 
Silence. Another parcel that Ed unwraps. Two photographs appear on the wall, two young men, clearly at different parties, smiling shyly. Ed looks confusedly at the projection and reads the note.
 
DAVE:   Well? What is it?
 
ED:   Just, uh… read it.
 
Ed hands Dave the letter.
 
DAVE:   “Dear Corrective. Picture A is myself, and picture B is my friend Ian. Some years ago we had an argument over something very arbitrary, that I deeply regret. We did not speak again. Last year Ian died of cancer, and I know that my life’s biggest mistake that I did not attend his funeral. I threw away all my pictures of him. Could you please edit these two together, so I can pretend I have one more memory of him? From Gary.”
 
Ed and Dave sit in silence for a while. Dave eventually begins to work on the photograph, making it look like the two men are in the same room, adjusting light and background accordingly until he is finished. He sits back.
 
ED:   Lunch break?
 
DAVE:   Yeah. Lunch break.
 
Ed exits as Dave picks up his coat from the back of his chair. He pauses, and goes to the computer again. The smiles of the two men in the picture get very slightly bigger. Dave smiles and hits send, he follows Ed. Lights down as the image projected fades to black.




Aaron Finnegan is a twenty-two-year-old writer and director from Drogheda, Ireland. He is a recent graduate of the Drama and Theatre Studies course at Trinity College Dublin. His work has been published in the Irish Times, Icarus, and Big Birds Collective. In 2018 he won the Hennessy Literary Award for First Fiction for his story Just This. He hopes you are doing okay.

Keep your creativity flowing with Fishamble's #TinyPlayChallenge
In these challenging times, Fishamble - along with many of our colleagues in the wider Irish artistic community - is working hard to keep imaginations lively, communities engaged - and most of all offer people the opportunity of creative expression. We asked our audiences: Would you welcome the challenge of exploring your thoughts and feelings through drama? Do you have a dramatic story that you feel the urge to work out for yourself, and maybe share with your fellow citizens?
​Below is one of the chosen plays from our weekly submissions.


ACT I
 
Scene 1
 
A sitting room-cum-dining room. BRENDAN (40) sits on a couch downstage left. Upstage right is a kitchen table littered with breakfast detritus.
 
Brendan is in his boxers with a cold cup of tea at his feet, playing STREETFIGHTER loudly.
 
Crista (35) enters from Stage Right holding her laptop. Full face of makeup, dressed from the waist up in office attire and in patterned pyjamas from the waist down. Exasperated by the mess, she starts clearing the table. Brendan tries to ignore her at first, so she cleans louder.
 
BRENDAN:
(lowering the volume)
Are you trying to get my attention or what?
 
CRISTA:
Could you not have tidied up after yourself, no?
 
BRENDAN:
I left it out for you.
 
Crista picks up the cereal box and rattles it - almost empty, the milk is the same. She continues clearing.
 
CRISTA:
You finished everything!?
 
BRENDAN:
(shrugs) 
Well I couldn’t just go to the shops without a list like, you know cos we can only go the once so...
 
CRISTA:
(under her breath)
Convenient.
 
BRENDAN:
What?
 
CRISTA:
Nothing.
 
BRENDAN:
No, you said something, what did you say?

CRISTA:
Nothing.. I said obedient, that’s very obedient of you.
A real rules guy you are these days.
 
She’s trying to be playful but it’s just not coming off.
 
CRISTA:
(cont.d) 
Right, well, I’ve to do this bloody Zoom call with my entire team now. I told you about it last night.
 
BRENDAN: 
Mmmhmm... Was that before or after you put the cushions down the middle of the bed?
 
CRISTA:
I know that seemed extreme, I’m sorry, I’m wrecked and I have to make sure I can sleep, they have me working like a dog now that they know I’ve no where else to be.
 
BRENDAN:
You made your point anyway. Noooo physical contact. Got it!
 
Brendan turns up the game. The BLAMs and KAPOWs are loud and violent. Crista starts to set up her computer but, overcome with sadness, she crumples into the chair and begins weeping. Brendan, feeling the energy change, looks over his shoulder, wonders whether to pretend he hasn’t noticed, pauses the game. He sits there for a moment. The only sound is Crista’s gentle weeping.
 
BRENDAN:
Do you need a tissue.
 
CRISTA:
I have one... thanks... This is hell for me too you know?
 
BRENDAN:
Well it was your decision so...
 
CRISTA:
And you agreed, it makes sense Brendan, we’re not making each other happy.
 
BRENDAN: 
We’re in the middle of a lockdown in a one-bedroom apartment Crista, what kind of time is this to break up with someone?
 
CRISTA:
I just feel like everything has come into sharp focus. You’re the one who brought up the topic!
 
Brendan shakes his head.
 
BRENDAN:
Jesus Christ. We’ve so much free time I just thought, what better time to make babies?!
 
CRISTA:
You’ve so much free time.
 
BRENDAN:
That’s a low-blow.
 
CRISTA: 
I’m sorry, just, like it’s relevant. I’m finally really killing it in work and, like, I’ve always told you where I stand on the kid thing. It’s you that’s doing a 180 on it. Not me.
 
BRENDAN: 
I just... I thought... I thought after 10 bloody years, I thought you might love me enough to change your mind...
 
CRISTA:
I do love you Brendan.
 
They sit in this moment. Together but so far apart. 
A BLOOP from the laptop.
 
JENNY:
Hi Crista! Just waiting on the rest to join and then you can take the reins ok? Excited about your first big presententation!?
 
CRISTA: 
Thanks Jenny, yeah. Really excited, thanks for the opportunity.
 
LIGHTS FADE.



​
Suri Grennell works predominantly in casting for Factual-Entertainment in the Television industry while moonlighting as a film writer and director. Her short films have screened at Dublin International Film Festival, Galway Film Fleadh, Kerry Film Festival, Fastnet Festival, Offline Festival and Irish Film Festival London.

Keep your creativity flowing with Fishamble's #TinyPlayChallenge
In these challenging times, Fishamble - along with many of our colleagues in the wider Irish artistic community - is working hard to keep imaginations lively, communities engaged - and most of all offer people the opportunity of creative expression. We asked our audiences: Would you welcome the challenge of exploring your thoughts and feelings through drama? Do you have a dramatic story that you feel the urge to work out for yourself, and maybe share with your fellow citizens?
​Below is one of the chosen plays from our global submissions.



Talvi:   Sleep tight, peanut.

Valo:   Tell it again.

Talvi:   Again? Trouble resting, love? (Pause) Alright then… Once upon a time, many, many years ago, when nana was young /

Valo:   How many many years ago?

Talvi:   Almost ten times your years.

Valo:   (shows fingers) I’m this many years!

Talvi:   Ten times your age ago, nana lived in a distant land, on an island far away from here. Nana worked in a little café, in a place where everyone could come and buy tea and coffee shipped from sunny, even more distant lands across the ocean /

Valo:   Because when nana was young, food was different and came from far away.

Talvi:   One day, when nana was in work, a very special guest walked in and ordered /

Valo:   Ginger tea!

Nana:   And that special guest was /

Valo:   Nana!

Talvi:   You are right, that’s how I met your other nana. I thought straight away she was special, and somehow had the courage to ask her to meet again. To my surprise, she agreed. So we met again, and then again, and again. Soon we started traveling the world together, exploring places near and far, some so far it would take you over 100 days and nights to walk there without ever taking breaks!

Valo:   Because when nana was young, people got to those far away places in one day, almost any person on the island could go, any time, anywhere they wanted to go.

Talvi:   That is true, and /

Valo:   Everyone could also buy all the things they wanted from shops!

Talvi:   Yes, and then /

Valo:   But papa repairs things.

Talvi:   Sure your papa does, but back then, people had forgotten how to repair, and it was easy to buy new things.

Valo:   Everyone was rich.

Talvi:   No dear, most people weren’t rich. We weren’t rich either, but it was cheap to buy, and there was plenty of everything. We even bought shirts and dresses just to wear them once, and didn’t feel sad throwing them out.

Valo:   Nanas didn’t make clothes.

Talvi:   Nanas didn’t know how to make clothes, and back then, your other nana couldn’t even sew a button, and believe it or not, fix a bike, a wobbly chair or cook.

Valo:   Because nana was a baby.

Talvi:   No, nana wasn’t a baby anymore. It was just easier then. You could buy just anything ready-made, even meals packed in plastic ready to eat. (Pause) Anyway, your nanas got to know each other, and they loved each other very much. And because of the people on the island, there was a vote, and they voted so that nanas and others like nanas could get married. So we did. But nana missed home and didn’t want to stay on the island for longer, and your other nana decided to follow her so they could be together.

Spring:   (enters) What’s with all the chitchat in here?

Valo:   Nana says when you were young you couldn’t cook even though you were not a baby.

​Spring:   That’s what your nana says? Keep in mind your nana is a well-known storyteller. Now, nap-time is up, it’s time to get out in the garden. Gingers are sprouting, why don’t you two  historians start digging up the roots, and I’ll make us all a cuppa?

​

Onerva Helne is a theatre-maker and director currently based in Helsinki, Finland. She graduated from MA Theatre Practice in the Gaiety School of Acting / UCD in 2018. She has created original works including IKTAKOP, performed in Scene & Heard Festival in 2018, and Lähde / Headwaters performed in Helsinki in 2019. Find @onahelne on Instagram and theatre company @nollacollective on Instagram & Facebook.

Keep your creativity flowing with Fishamble's #TinyPlayChallenge
In these challenging times, Fishamble - along with many of our colleagues in the wider Irish artistic community - is working hard to keep imaginations lively, communities engaged - and most of all offer people the opportunity of creative expression. We asked our audiences: Would you welcome the challenge of exploring your thoughts and feelings through drama? Do you have a dramatic story that you feel the urge to work out for yourself, and maybe share with your fellow citizens?
​Below is one of the chosen plays from our weekly submissions.

​

CHARACTERS: 
CIARAN
JOYCE
SADIE
 
CIARAN sits behind a large desk - JOYCE sits down.
 
JOYCE: Now.
 
CIARAN: Brilliant.
 
JOYCE: So?
 
CIARAN: So you know why you’re here?
 
JOYCE: I do.
 
CIARAN: Good. Because of the incident.
 
JOYCE: The incident, yes.
 
CIARAN: Joyce, what happened was a huge/
 
JOYCE: Yeah.
 
CIARAN: /embarrassment for the company.
 
JOYCE: Course.
 
CIARAN: You understand?
 
JOYCE: I do.
 
CIARAN: Good. Because obviously I have to, y’know - (Searching for the right word)
 
(TOGETHER) JOYCE: Reimburse.
 
(TOGETHER) CIARAN Reprimand.
 
Brief pause
 
CIARAN: What?
 
JOYCE: What?
 
CIARAN: Did you say reimburse?
 
JOYCE: I did.
 
CIARAN: I said reprimand.
 
JOYCE: Oh. Why?
 
CIARAN: Because of what happened?
 
JOYCE: What happened?
 
CIARAN: Well. If I can speak plainly?
 
JOYCE: Please.
 
CIARAN: You were masturbating in a Zoom meeting.
 
JOYCE: Oh that.
 
CIARAN: Yes that.
 
JOYCE: I can explain that.
 
CIARAN: Can you?
 
JOYCE: Yeah.
 
Pause
 
CIARAN: Go on.
 
JOYCE: I was sleeping.
 
CIARAN: You were nude.
 
JOYCE: I sleep nude.
 
CIARAN: Several people saw you. Someone recorded you. It’s on the internet Joyce.
 
JOYCE: Right. Is it?
 
CIARAN: The CFO’s seen it.
 
JOYCE: Yikes.
 
CIARAN: Yikes indeed. So you see why I have to- What was the incident that you were-
 
JOYCE: Oh, the pay cut.
 
CIARAN: The 10% pay cut? You wanted/
 
JOYCE: I want to be reimbursed. I work very hard, Ciaran. I want that 10% back.
 
Pause
 
CIARAN: You can’t have it, Joyce.
 
JOYCE: Right. Because of the masturbating?
 
CIARAN: No that’s a separate-
 
JOYCE: I didn’t come if that’s the issue.
 
SADIE: God.
 
CIARAN: That’s not the-
 
JOYCE: Because I make a real show of it when I come.
 
CIARAN: That’s really not the (pause) issue.
 
SADIE: Joyce that’s not the issue for us.
 
JOYCE: Well Sadie the issue for me, if I can speak plainly?
 
CIARAN: Please.
 
JOYCE: The issue for me is that you cut 10% of my pay.
 
CIARAN: That was company-wide.
 
SADIE: Everyone took a pay cut Joyce.
 
JOYCE: But my hours weren’t cut by 10%.
 
CIARAN: No.
 
JOYCE: And they should have been.
 
CIARAN: Well-
 
JOYCE: So I’ve made the decision to take 10% of my day off.
 
CIARAN: You can’t do that.
 
JOYCE: Why?
 
Silence
 
CIARAN: Because.
 
JOYCE: That particular Zoom meeting fell during that time.
 
CIARAN: Right.
 
JOYCE: So I think that solves it. You can keep your 10% and I’ll keep mine.
 
CIARAN: Em. Sadie?
 
SADIE: Joyce?
 
JOYCE: Ok great, thanks guys.
 
JOYCE hangs up
 
End



​
Ciara Elizabeth Smyth is an award-winning Irish playwright. She was the chosen playwright for Rough Magic’s SEEDS programme 2018-2020 & has just completed a commission with the Abbey Theatre for Dear Ireland 2020. Her most recent play, SAUCE, was chosen for artist support initiative DUETS & presented in Dublin Fringe Festival 2019 (nominated for the Little Gem Award, Judge’s Choice Award & Spirit of the Fringe Award). SAUCE will be published by Nick Hern Books 2020 & is being adapted as a television series. Ciara is a resident artist in the MAC Theatre Belfast 2020 & is represented by Curtis Brown. Find Ciara on Twitter @ciaraesmyth and Instagram @ciaraesmyth.

Keep your creativity flowing with Fishamble's #TinyPlayChallenge
In these challenging times, Fishamble - along with many of our colleagues in the wider Irish artistic community - is working hard to keep imaginations lively, communities engaged - and most of all offer people the opportunity of creative expression. We asked our audiences: Would you welcome the challenge of exploring your thoughts and feelings through drama? Do you have a dramatic story that you feel the urge to work out for yourself, and maybe share with your fellow citizens?
​Below is one of the chosen plays from our weekly submissions.​



Three women (any age) are playing with Barbies, surrounded by
accessories.

MOLLY
We are young and living in our Dream House together

SAM
With our rich husbands who we are in love with

ADDY
Except for my husband, who died tragically

SAM
You cried for days

MOLLY
We are happy with our careers

ADDY
We are successes!

MOLLY
Happy with things!

SAM
Dishwasher/

ADDY
pool/

SAM
private jet/

MOLLY
Pink/ pink/ pink
until lunch.

ADDY
Three meals a day for forever is a harsh sentence

MOLLY
The first time I ordered Domino’s on my own--
Pizza/

SAM
breadsticks/

ADDY
cinnamon twists--

MOLLY
I wept because it felt like self-sufficiency

SAM
Indepence

ADDY
Because we’d talked so much about freedom and this was my way of understanding what that
meant

MOLLY
But also because it felt like a form of leaving.

SAM
And after lunch?

MOLLY
The days are coming as fast as they always did

SAM
Lip Smackers Tropical Fever/ Temporary pink hair streak

ADDY
Cell phone charm/ iPod case

MOLLY
We want and want, the internet is our dream house

SAM
Beauty butt mask/jade face roller/ vitamin pack

ADDY
Poetry collection/online yoga subscription/ eco-friendly toothbrush

MOLLY
I want and want,
I am struggling to keep up with all the THINGS,
I am getting better and better!

SAM
Or maybe fuller and fuller!

ADDY
My unpacked suitcase is expanding and I am already thinking of the day when I will pack my
things again
And be unhappy elsewhere

MOLLY
I send the same sad texts to the same two people who still make me feel better than
Vintage earrings from Ebay ever did,

SAM
I rediscover a facebook photo from 2013,
(life is long, isn’t it)

ADDY
I reveal to my public the album that helped me discover hip hop,
of course no one cares like I do.

MOLLY
I hold tight to the things I have created to be truths

ADDY
I love Kanye

SAM
I don’t eat meat,

MOLLY
I dare to call myself artist from a young age and never recover.
No one ever looks at me and says “you’ve changed”,
So I say it to myself in fits of imagined fatness or glow.

ADDY
I love and love and love
Shitty teen romances and girlpop on repeat,

SAM
Two weeks of yoga that don’t save my soul,

MOLLY
Two years of dyed hair to say
I CANNOT CONTINUE TO BE THE PERSON I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN

SAM
A crate of cleaning products and do we have to keep doing this?
Will I always, always be consuming?

MOLLY
But Kesha is back without her dollar sign,

SAM
The Dixie Chicks are on the Top Charts again,
Emerging from their pre-Spotify glory days
singing about psychological manipulation,

ADDY
And I am asking and asking if anyone has checked up on Trippie, on Frank, on Kendrick,
To let him know we ARE praying for him
To let him know his music is how we pray now,
We are joyful and singing together,
We have no right.

MOLLY
The rappers are driving themselves to extinction

ADDY
Soon we will be of the age where all our idols are dead

MOLLY
But I have my 70 pack of Jaffa cakes coming in the mail

ADDY
My case of wine

SAM
My beetroot serum.

MOLLY
The impermanence of my Self and the dreadful permanence of every day.
But we are young and your names are still on my phone screen

SAM
Green dots by your names

ADDY
A reassurance

MOLLY
You are still tethered to the Earth
Nothing is lost



Julia Marks is an actor and theatre-maker originally from South Carolina. She graduated from the Gaiety School of Acting in 2019, and previously received a BA in Theatre from the College of Charleston. She is a founding member of iii States Collective, a producing company focused on challenging theatrical form and expectations. They recently staged their first original work, Cove Creek Boys and Summer Girls, at the Scene and Heard Festival 2020, which was her professional writing and acting debut. You can find her on Instagram at @iiistates or @theconfessionrooms.