A small story
 
By standing on each others' shoulders it was possible to escape, but that was far too straightforward for our heroes.

One shone a torch and the others crawled up the beam. Then the last one reached down and gave a hand to the girl who shone the torch. The girl who shone the torch had escaped from a minimalist play. She repeated “Over, it's over”, and refused the hand. The others left her in the light, and they all crawled out the window. Outside the window it was dark; no imagination, you see. Like the wings of a theatre that has been locked up for the night. They could barely make out stars in the distance. The girl flashed the torch on and off, and repeated “Over”, to herself – then, in a whisper, “If there was only one. Only one silly friend…”



*Beth Jellicoe is a writer and performer from Birmingham, UK. She writes songs for mandolin, dresses colourfully and has a wall covered in postcards. Beth has been previously published in various magazines including Rialto, Cadaverine and Delinquent. She also edits the Crocodile ezine