This is dialogue written by me that will be used within our site specific performance.

I took a seat on an uncomfortable stiff chair on the outskirts of the room. Behind me was a large window with a sheer layer of condensation slowly evaporating from it. Beyond the foggy glass I could see a field blessed with the first signs of Spring. White specks of daisies broke up the eternity of green grass and the shadows of the trees were more prominent after a bare and leafless winter. Although a cold March morning, the sun broke through the clouds allowing the room to be lit by the purity of its light. Feeling flushed, I unwrapped my woolen scarf and instantly felt the bitterness of the season on my neck. The cold intruded upon my bare skin refreshing my body, making me aware of the tense atmosphere in front of me. The silence of the room pierced my ears like the scream of a child falling on a gravel path. Suddenly, the freshness of the spring seemed distant from the darkness.

The loudest sound in the room was that of a young girl sobbing into the shoulder of a dark eyed man. A man who did not cry or yell or even show emotion on his pale face but you could tell the things he had seen, he would not wish upon his greatest enemy. The memories of his time stained to the inside of his eye lids, denying him the pleasure of a sleeping man.

No eyes met across the room, no smiles were exchanges, no laughter shared between strangers. Red tear stained eyes gravitated to the floor denying the opportunity to be polite and even to offer sympathy or comfort. Not knowing what new information I was going to leave this room with, I hoped and prayed for the best, for the rumours to be wrong, for it to just be a misunderstanding. The thought of this brought the taste of blood to my tongue. A salty metallic flavour, like when you drink water from an old copper cup. The taste infected my mouth leaving me feeling nauseated and faint. In this moment I knew I would be leaving this room with the weight of sadness on my shoulder. I then wished I could sob into the sleeve of a dark eyed, emotionless man just to feel the warmth of another body close to mine. Envious of the young girl across the room I stared at my fingertips, tracing the unique outlines attempting to think of anything other than images that were soon to be stained to my eye lids. The image of a man, a lifeless man, my husband.