RTE, 2013
ON BEING FLATTENED
a radio play by Philip Davison
(extract)
A busy city street. Car and lorry horns sound – sustained blasts, left to right, right to left. Passing shouts – somebody is in the way.
A gentle shushing that, nonetheless, is heard above the harsh sounds of the traffic.
MARIANNE(calling): Dad – get in off the road.
JAS: Can’t.
MARIANNE: Come on the pavement.
JAS: Shhhh.
More car horns. Marianne and her father now in close
perspective –
MARIANNE: What are you at?
JAS: Crossing the road.
MARIANNE: No you’re not. You’re just standing there,
staring up at the sky. Are you trying to get
yourself killed?
JAS: Shh. I have the chips.
MARIANNE: So I see.
JAS: With salt and vinegar.
MARIANNE: Oh well then. That’s everything sorted,
isn’t it?
He sits down with a weary sigh.
What do you think you’re doing?
JAS: I’ve been drinking.
MARIANNE: I know you’ve been drinking. Get up off
that curb.
JAS: Are we nearly home? We are, aren’t we?
MARIANNE: I’ve been looking for you everywhere.
JAS: You can rest now.
Change perspective – Jas moves along the pavement –
sonic waves of unintelligible conversations passing right to left, left to right.
Background traffic becomes foreground sound.
JAS(in the head): Shhhh.
Traffic sounds waver and recede. Jas’ footfalls become more distinct, then, he stops. Distant perspective –
MARIANNE: Are you all right, Dad?
JAS: Too much noise.
MARIANNE: Too much noise in you head?
JAS: Around my head. In my head. Too much.
MARIANNE: It’ll pass.
JAS: I look up. It goes away. Then – bang.
MARIANNE: Bang. Yes. You’ve told me. But what are you saying?
JAS: I see you brought that bloody tape recorder.
* * *