Details
"My girlfriend thinks I'm obsessed with death. Well maybe I am, but only as much as the next rotting sack of bones." It's Terry's birthday. At 27, he is now older than his older brother Danny. With a shoebox full of dead ladybirds, Terry reminisces over their childhood, whilst fighting to come to terms with his regrets over how things could have been different. A darkly comic monologue about boys, Christmas socks and not growing up.
Creatives/Company
Author:
Hugh DichmontWhat's On By Year ...