FLIGHT: Southwark

The FLIGHT workshop in Southwark focused on participants writing scenes around various themes, including loss and discovery, with the workshops being led by playwright Che Walker.
The participants would write short scenes based on fact or fiction – or an amalgamation of the two. The drafts and were read aloud to the group with other participants stepping in to help read in for each other’s work – to both dramtic and comic effect!
The group then wrote individual letters to their 16 year old selves, where themes of regret and loss emerged as well as encouragements that after all the dust has settled and despite a struggle – they assured themselves that things would be alright.

The group took a day trip to the Theatre Royal Stratford East to see Che’s play The Etienne Sisters, which focused on sibling relationships and how they had been frayed at the edges due to one sibling’s tendancies towards addictions, and her place within the family. The group thoroughly enjoyed seeing Che’s work and continued their writing.

Towards the end of the week, the group then combined their ideas and began interweaving their ideas and scripts collectively into a narrative that featured multiple characters in London, focusing on themes of isolation, fear then eventually triumph. Some of the text played out in the form of dialogue driven scenes and other parts featured where the group spoke together, with hints of poetry, music and spoken word.

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Below is some of the scripts written by participant John:

Friendship Scene

Friendship is a myth, a legend, a fairy tale.
We are just bags of water, endlessly telling stories for our genetic continuance… infinitum…
Family, even love, is purely an environmental constraint with the primary motive of survival; its ‘raison d’etre’.
But here is the rub. I like myths, legends, and fairy tales more than reality, so does being a father, a brother, a son, a friend, a companion, a lover: of any less value to my existence, and just a way of alleviating ‘La solitude morne de ma vie’?

But then again, I am someone.


You won’t like this, but I no longer know you.

The ‘John’ I knew, or even was, is long, long gone.

My father’s death to Nuccia, one long numbed mess.

You have no idea how much you’re on the edge.

You won’t listen to any advice

But you might listen to a whisper.

Keep your eyes wide open for that someone who will change you.

Changed me so, I am now who I am, more her child than my mother’s.

Blood maybe thicker than water but love is thicker still…


Same old bus stop

Same old place

Same place that was once young

Is now the same ‘old’ bus stop

I head off from there

I travel back from here

And sometimes I’m just passing through

Same old bus stop

I see you waiting there

I see you ‘getting off’

I see you ‘getting on’

At ‘our’ same old bus stop.


Throw that stone.

Throw that stone I dare you

Throw that judgement stone

And I’ll throw it straight back at you.
Making judgements from on high.

Throwing shadows upon who be I.

Judge me for the hurt I’ve done to others.

Not for the pain I’ve done to mine.
Assumptions and prejudices.

Prejudicial and detrimental.

No one has the light or even the right.

On another person’s soul.

We live in rooms filled with mirrors.

All we ever see is ‘we’.

So let’s smash those mirrors.

And the whole world is there for ‘us’ to see.

So throw that Stone.

Throw that stone, I dare you.

Throw that judgement stone.

And I’ll throw it straight back at you.

Darling Scene

Many years ago I watched my mum die

She drank herself to death

I wouldn’t let my kid brother see her

As she rotted in her hospital bed

The booze and dope killed her long before

She swam out too far

And when she couldn’t get back in

She drowned other than face the shore

One day you will swim out too far

You both have the same coloured eyes of blue

And not all sunsets are so beautiful

Some you will never see at all

And I know it when you call late at night

I hear it in your voice

That strange sick sense of arrogance

That makes me want to hit you with a rock

A glass of wine in your hand

A crack pipe in your mouth

I know I said I’d be there forever

But how long is that piece of string

So don’t ask that of me

To see you living life as a ghoul

I can still see you standing there

A mere shadow in the rain

Oh Darling, I want watch you die, drowning in your tears…

So darling, I won’t watch you die as you drown in them tears…