A figure, not a fine figure of man or woman, inches across the stage.
Eco-friendly lighting means the stage is partly lit with a yellowing glow.
In the corner of the stage a tall box stands. A box that looks like a cheap wardrobe without its doors.
On the shelf there’s a piece of paper and a cheap black pencil; most likely a 2B.
Silence, except for the laboured shuffling as the figure eventually reaches the box.
Suddenly, faint strains of a strident patriotic type anthem pierce the scene.
The figure stops at the mouth of the box, appears to turn around, full 360 degrees before entering.
The figure lifts the pencil, licks the pencil, looks around, full 360 degrees, like an owl.
The figure puts pencil to paper, the scratching still heard despite a slight increase in the music.
The figure puts the pencil down, folding the paper before turning and shuffling back across the stage.
The music fades in unison with the figure’s progress across the stage.
Halfway across the stage the figure appears to deposit the folded paper into an apparently suspended slot.
The paper disappears like magic.
A moment after the figure disappears from the stage a sharp singular laugh pierces the silence.
The lights pop as though defunct.
Another figure, dressed as a curtain, falls.