In a valley where the river runs slow, a gentle man tends an orchard of young trees and finds the place he is not the wrong thing. Then a cold question takes root among the villagers. A Wildean fable about mercy, suspicion, and the names that other people hand us.

A grey northern town prides itself on being clean, proper, hard. Three unwanted children, who hear and see and feel what others will not, watch a stranger walk in wearing impossible colours. He offers to cure the town's rot. The town has never met a debt it could not rename.

Frankenstein's monster is, contrary to popular belief, extremely articulate. He is also extremely tired. Hauled out of his own novel and into one ill-fitting adaptation after another, each louder and stranger than the last, he wants a quiet life, one uninterrupted sentence, and for everyone to please read the book.

A lyrical street-level chorus of longing, fear, and fragile hope, narrated by the pavement itself.

A poetic, satirical journey through London’s soul—told by its overlooked animals. This piece is sharp, lyrical, and quietly devastating.