PLAY #345: ONE POINT FIVE TO SURVIVE (DEC.5.2015)

A large greenhouse.

A large foam ‘UNFCCC’ logo inside.

 

[i]

 

OCEANIA (mermaid from the Pacific Ocean) enters with a sign: ‘’Rio 1992.’

 

OCEANIA twirls around the stage.

Happy, loud music.

NICK (20s; white American; male) starts to fill the greenhouse with trees.

 

OCEANIA

I swim

in streams of possibilities

this new world we create

swirls with hope.

crisp blank pages

await the twirls of proud pens

happy to intervene

before the energy rushes away.

 

[ii]

 

NICK starts to take out some trees to make way for large reams of paper, with UNFCCC text on them.

OCEANIA enters with a sign: ‘Berlin, 1995.’

NICK continues to add paper.

 

NICK – around 17 or so at this point – hands OCEANIA a card.

 

OCEANIA

You’re in the Model UN?

 

NICK

And now the real one!

 

OCEANIA

You’re part of the Youth Groups.

 

NICK

You got it.

(beat.)

Will you sign it? I’ve never met a mermaid before.

 

OCEANIA

Sure.

 

NICK hands OCEANIA a pen.

 

NICK

I love swimming. And boating. And surfing.

 

OCEANIA

I bet.

 

OCEANIA hands NICK back the card.

NICK pulls out another card.

 

NICK

I’ll sign one for you too. Maybe one day it’ll be worth something!

 

OCEANIA

When you’re the President?

 

NICK

I think Environment Secretary would be fine. I really want to make a difference, you know? And I mean there’s so many people and places to save!

 

OCEANIA

You’re excited to play Superman?

 

NICK

Batman, I’d say. Way cooler.

(beat.)

Have you seen any of the negotiation sessions?

 

OCEANIA

No.

 

NICK

I sat in one of the overflow rooms. I’m trying to learn another three languages – I have six so far, but if you want to do well here, I think a dozen is the best bet.

 

OCEANIA

How many languages can you say ‘goodbye’ in?

 

NICK

That’s easy. Probably even two dozen-

 

But OCEANIA is gone.

NICK shrugs, fetches more paper.

 

[iii]

 

NICK is still adding paper.

OCEANIA flips her sign: ‘Kyoto, 1997.’

NICK sees OCEANIA, tries to avoid her.

 

OCEANIA

what’s wrong?

 

NICK

It’s not going to pass.

Not in the States.

It’s all…

 

NICK throws a ream of paper into the air, exits.

 

[iv]

 

OCEANIA holds up a sign: ‘Bonn, 1999.’

NICK takes out the remaining trees, continues to bring in paper.

 

OCEANIA

I am running out of words

as they lap around me

how many times can I say

that islands will disappear

that the ocean will sting in its bitterness

that my scales will peel

my lungs burst

while people chase a millennium bug

not looking at the end

that eyes them from the other side.

 

NICK exits the greenhouse, looks in from the outside.

 

[v]

 

OCEANIA holds up a sign: ‘Montreal, 2005.’

NICK sits by the side of the greenhouse, looking in.

 

NICK

my little brother’s here now

Zac

he took it hard

I think

me leaving the way I did

even

if I think he could see the sense of it

death by Kyoto Protocol

or lack thereof

is a tough thing to take.

so

here he is

stretching away from my shadow

he won’t let go of hope

clinging to it with his teeth

he is

the stubborn fucker.

 

[vi]

 

OCEANIA holds up a sign: ‘Copenhagen, 2009.

OCEANIA moves around the greenhouse, protesting.

NICK sits outside the greenhouse.

 

OCEANIA

two degrees is suicide.

that can’t be the only thing we agree to here.

the obliteration of everything around me.

 

NICK

Hopenhagen!

I thought he’d do something

my little bro

Obama

anybody

but every sliver of possibility we have

we waste.

 

OCEANIA

two degrees is suicide

we have not agreed to anything

in the spaces on the edges of the margin

we fight.

 

[vii.]

 

OCEANIA holds up a sign: ‘Lima, 2014.’

 

OCEANIA starts to swim in all the paper with various agreements written on it.

OCEANIA throws the paper in the air, splashes around vigorously.

NICK watches from outside.

 

[viii.]

 

OCEANIA holds up a sign: ‘Paris, 2015.’

 

NICK sits down by the side of the greenhouse, looking in.

OCEANIA starts to re-arrange all the bits of paper, until it spells out a large ‘1.5.’

As she does this, OCEANIA chants:

 

OCEANIA

One point five to survive

we are not drowning

we are fighting

One point five to survive

we are not stuck in brackets

we are fighting back from the edges of the page

One point five to survive

One point five to survive…

 

 

PLAY #344: LOSS AND DAMAGE, A PLAY IN PIECES (DEC.4.2015)

Paris, COP 21, 2015.

Scenes can happen in different order.

 

[i]

 

An enormous greenhouse with a foam ‘#GOCOP21’ sign inside.

LEILANI (18; Samoan; female) is inside.

KHADIJA (40s; Iraqi; female; a ghost) is outside.

 

KHADIJA presses her hand against the glass.

LEILANI moves over, puts her hand against the glass over the same spot.

They stay in this position for a while.

 

[ii]

 

The greenhouse is empty.

KHADIJA is outside.

KHADIJA presses her face against the glass.

 

KHADIJA

Hello?

Hello?

Can anybody hear me?

Hello?

 

[iii]

 

LEILANI enters the tent and sets up a crate table.

She puts up a sign: ‘LOST AND FOUND.’

She puts a loudspeaker on the table, with a recording.

She turns it on.

 

LOUDSPEAKER

as with any UNFCCC event

there must be bureaucracy

forms to fill out

say if you have lost

a glove

or a scarf

perhaps your ticket to reclaim your coat

perhaps your reusable conference cup

or an island

or a tree

or a town

or a culture

you can describe the items you have lost

and fill out a form

and there will be a plan

to replace your glove

or cup

or island

and there will be strings attached

so that you find your new item responsibly

with some benefit to others

because it must be carelessness

all these lost things

you must be to blame.

 

LEILANI throws away the loudspeaker.

 

LEILANI

we [will not] [will] be lost

we [do not] [do] accept this

we will not be the lost generation

we will be compensated

for loss and damage

without strings.

 

[iv]

 

KHADIJA leans against the side of the glasshouse.

 

KHADIJA

Hello?

the Delegation of the Dead have come to speak

we may be invisible

but we will be heard

it is important

to consider history here

this is not a problem of the future

even as we shift to an agreement

where all countries agree to emissions cuts

we must not forget

who got us here.

we have the wisdom of the dead

we have the tiredness of the dead

we have the anger of the dead

we will not be forgotten.

 

KHADIJA stands, gets a can of paint.

KHADIJA starts to write the names of Iraqi victims of oil wars across the greenhouse in paint.

Painting, painting, painting.

 

[v]

 

KHADIJA paces outside the greenhouse.

KHADIHA picks up a can of paint and flings it through one of the panes.

The pane smashes.

 

[vi]

 

LEILANI stands inside the greenhouse by a broken window.

She carefully picks up the pieces of glass and puts them on a crate.

She starts to make a sculpture, glueing the glass to the side of the crate.

 

[vii]

 

KHADIJA is outside the greenhouse; LEILANI is inside.

 

KHADIJA

hello?

 

LEILANI

hello?

 

KHADIJA

sometimes I feel

 

LEILANI

so alone

 

KHADIJA

and overwhelmed

until

 

LEILANI

I remember

 

KHADIJA

everybody here alongside me

 

LEILANI

even if I can’t see them

if alphabets

 

KHADIJA

and continents

 

LEILANI

gape between us

 

KHADIJA

still

 

LEILANI

here they are

 

KHADIJA

calling.

 

[viii]

 

LEILANI starts to paint shards of glass on a crate.

 

LEILANI

I am making

a map of lost things

jagged edges

that pierce brackets

and spaces that smother over things

because some things

refuse to be drowned

we

refuse to drown

we fight.

 

LEILANI holds up the crate above her head and marches around the perimeter of the greenhouse.

 

[ix]

 

KHADIJA sits outside the greenhouse.

LEILANI is inside.

KHADIJA makes bomb sound effects.

LEILANI ducks.

For a while, they do this until KHADIJA starts to laugh, then to cry.

 

[x]

 

LOUDSPEAKER is on top of the greenhouse.

LEILANI is inside.

The top panes have been smashed open.

Hoses pour water, oil, and trash inside the greenhouse, filling it up.

LOUDSPEAKER moves from side to side, joyous.

Hoses stop.

 

LEILANI looks around.

 

LOUDSPEAKER

we will be happy to arrange a loan

to cover unfortunate damages that you have accrued.

 

LEILANI

But it’s your fault!

All this was you!

 

LOUDSPEAKER

it is difficult to trace a line between cause and damages

consider it our generosity

that we will provide loans for development

that ensure you will be better equipped

for future unfortunate events.

 

LEILANI

no more!

you must stop!

no more!

 

LEILANI shouts as the hoses start again, relentless, but not loud enough to silence LEILANI.

 

[xi]

 

KHADIJA and LEILANI sit beside each other, the glass of the greenhouse between them.

 

KHADIJA

my daughter was of an age to you.

 

LEILANI

is she here?

 

KHADIJA

I haven’t found her

though I’ve pushed my nails

into every corner.

 

Pause.

 

LEILANI

what was her name?

 

KHADIJA

Leila.

 

Pause.

 

LEILANI

A nice name.

 

KHADIJA

I don’t know.

I wish I had made her up a new name

one like a bulletproof vest

the name of one who can never die

invulnerable to bombs

free of the indignities

of a world where

that at the bottom of a barrel

carries more value than any ‘Leila.’

I wish she had a name beyond letters.

 

 

LEILANI

You should have called her ‘oil.’

 

KHADIJA

Ha.

Yes.

My next.

 

 

[xii]

 

KHADIJA sits on the roof of the greenhouse.

One of the top panes is smashed.

Through this, strings run down, attached to LOUDSPEAKER, which KHADIJA moves around like a marionette.

LEILANI watches inside the greenhouse, laughing.

 

LOUDSPEAKER

this is most unpleasant

 

KHADIJA

strings

I will show you what strings feel like.

 

LOUDSPEAKER

stop!

 

But KHADIJA continues.

 

[xiii]

 

KHADIJA and LEILANI sit beside each other, the wall of the greenhouse between them.

 

KHADIJA

there was a woman in my village

who could only speak in brackets

she must have swallowed them

once

and so they came up

painfully through a tube in her chest

and tumbled down onto stones

broken.

(beat.)

when she died

we had forgotten her name

so we just wrote

[       ]

 

[xiv]

 

LEILANI holds the LOUDSPEAKER and whispers into its open mouth.

 

LEILANI

what I would like to lose:

debt

and doubt

and measuring out life by inches

and the shadows of strings

stretched across a beach

and the coat of colonialism

that cosies around

and the days and days

spent staring at clocks

while talk spins round

in rooms that look like airports

I will not mind

losing the UNFCCC

and you

I would like to lose

you.

 

[xv]

 

KHADIJA and LEILANI sit side by side, the glass of the greenhouse between them.

 

LEILANI

because we have lost all time.

 

KHADIJA

what?

 

LEILANI

we have lost time.

 

KHADIJA

what?

 

LEILANI

time has been damaged.

 

KHADIJA

how?

 

LEILANI

there was a time

when birds told us things

when to grow

or sow

it was all written out

in the pathways of the birds

and now

they flap about confused

seasons are all sloppy

we do not know what time it is

because we have lost all time

 

KHADIJA

what?

 

LEILANI

we have lost time

 

KHADIJA

how?

 

LEILANI

there was a time…

 

And so it continues until time can be found for stopping.

 

[xvi]

 

KHADIJA presses her hand against the glass.

LEILANI moves over, puts her hand against the glass over the same spot.

They stay in this position for a while.

PLAY #237: RAGNAROK (AUGUST 13)

Europe, 2010.

PASSED-BY #1 & #2 look up at the sky.

Just visible: a cloud of dark ash.

 

PASSED-BY #1

Still the stand-still?

 

PASSED-BY #2

Still.

 

PASSED-BY #1

Quiet. Without the sky full.

 

PASSED-BY #2

Yeah.

 

They look up at the ash.

 

PASSED-BY #1

Think it’s revenge?

 

PASSED-BY #2

Huh?

 

PASSED-BY #1

For Copenhagen. Our inability to stop. Like this volcano is putting us in our place.

 

PASSED-BY #2

I don’t think volcanoes are aware of us. Or Copenhagen. I mean, this volcano has all the publicity it needs: not like Copenhagen would give it much more.

 

PASSED-BY #1

No.

They look up at the ash.

 

PASSED-BY #2

Not revenge. Not a message. Just…

 

PASSED-BY #1

Ash.

 

PASSED-BY #2

Just ash, yes.

 

They look up at the sky.

PLAY #181: POZNAN (JUNE 8)

Poznan, 2008.

An empty conference room.

ANJALI walks in, composed.

ZAC stumbles after, giddy.

 

He shuts the door.

ANJALI slaps him playfully, starts to laugh.

 

ANJALI

You have to get a better ‘we’re not doing anything face!’

 

ZAC

You’re the one who started to laugh.

 

ANJALI

Only because you’re such a terrible liar.

 

ZAC

I’m not!

 

ANJALI

Your face is like a children’s picturebook, it doesn’t take a Sherlock to read it.

 

ZAC

I’ll be sure to get plastic surgery next year.

 

ANJALI

Can you ask for a Jake Gyllenhaal?

 

ZAC

I’ll see what Obama says.

 

ANJALI

He’ll be all for it. No way he wants your babyface ruining his-

 

ZAC

Honest desire to do something about global warming?

 

ANJALI

Carefully massaged media message.

 

ZAC

I’ve told you he’s-

 

ANJALI

Different, I know. You’re not working for him yet though. And your fly’s undone.

 

ANJALI walks to the corner, exploring the empty room.

ZAC adjusts himself, checks himself in the reflection of a door, starts to redo his tie, carefully, deliberately.

 

ZAC

Where are we?

 

ANJALI

Wild Boar room I think.

 

ZAC

Really?

 

ANJALI

Don’t get any ideas.

 

ZAC

Not my fault all the rooms are named after animals.

 

ANJALI

Don’t get comfortable. We’re just waiting until there’s a clear coast.

 

ZAC

She didn’t care anyway. None of the volunteers here do. You think they’d at least be excited-

 

ANJALI

About a UN Climate Conference? They’re teenagers, they only get excited about one thing.

 

ZAC

Not everybody is as perverted as you.

 

ANJALI

I was talking about mobile phones.

 

ANJALI pulls her cellphone out, starts to text.

 

ZAC

You’re not twittering about us-

 

ANJALI

The verb is tweeting. And the answer is no.

 

ZAC

You’re talking about how this is the first COP where your expectations have been exceeded.

 

ANJALI

You wish. I’m trying to find out where Gore is talking.

 

ZAC

You’re not going to go see Al Bore when you could be-

 

ANJALI

Watching one man tie a knot at sub-glacial speed?

 

ZAC

Is this where I’m supposed to make a joke about how fast glaciers move these days?

 

ANJALI

This is where you invest in a clip-on wardrobe.

 

ZAC

It’s important that I look good.

 

ANJALI

Oh right, all those pretentious knots. The Wizard-

 

ZAC

Windsor.

 

ANJALI starts to tie a knot in ZAC’s tie messily.

 

ANJALI

Here, stop making such a production out of it, it’s not as if anybody’s going to be photographing you anyway-

 

ZAC

You just wait till Copenhagen-

 

ANJALI

There.

 

ZAC

No way. That looks like a Republican knot.

 

ANJALI

You can call it the Pitbull then.

 

ANJALI tries to walk away, ZAC pulls her close.

 

ZAC

Does that mean you’re going to put some lipstick on it?

 

ANJALI

And what am I supposed to tell Al?

 

ZAC

The truth is inconvenient?

 

ANJALI

I have to go.

 

ZAC

There’s no point. Everybody is just going through the motions – nobody is making any real pledge on emissions reduction.

 

ANJALI

Or adaptation financing. That’s the problem.

 

ZAC

It’s okay. This conference is just keeping the wheels turning. Nothing that can be done with Watson here anyway. You know as well as I do that nothing is going to happen this year.

 

ANJALI

Not until Obama swoops in and saves the day?

 

ZAC

Not until I save the motherfucking day.

 

ANJALI

I hope you’ve reserved a room in Copenhagen for your ego.

 

ZAC

Gladys has a booked a suite for me.

 

ANJALI

Obama hired her too?

 

ZAC

Of course. Stimulus package for all. Including-

 

ANJALI

Don’t. I might just have go gag you with that bloody tie.

 

ZAC

Now you’re talking.

 

ANJALI breaks away.

 

ANJALI

Don’t you ever worry?

 

ZAC

What’s that word you’re saying?

 

ANJALI

That it won’t work out. That the GFC is going to be used as an excuse to do nothing about the climate. That there isn’t a robust text for Copenhagen yet. That more of the same will happen there, except it won’t be the same, it’ll be a catastrophe, because this is the last window that’s closing.

 

ZAC

It will work out. It’ll have to. There’s a momentum behind this, no country has the power to block action now. And every leader wants to make a legacy-

 

ANJALI

Or a profit.

 

ZAC

You’re the one who wants to watch the Boring Billionaire.

 

ANJALI

Only so I can heckle him.

ZAC

Maybe we can heckle together?

 

ANJALI

Maybe.

 

ANJALI starts to leave, ZAC follows.

 

ZAC

We could take the scenic route if you want. There’s still some rooms we haven’t explored.

 

ANJALI

I think we’ve exhausted this building.

 

ZAC

There’s always the elevator.

 

ANJALI

You’re incorrigible.

 

ZAC

Is that a compliment?

 

They leave.

PLAY #180: COPENHAGEN (JUNE 6)

Copenhagen, 2009.

A hotel room at the UN Climate Summit.

ZAC is sitting on the bed, dressed, staring at a lanyard in his hands.

Evidence of several drinks throughout the room.

 

ANJALI enters, from the shower, starts to get dressed.

Throughout the scene, both ANJALI’s and ZAC’s phones vibrate on the table, many people trying to get in touch.

 

ANJALI

Surprised you’re still here.

 

ZAC

I’ve been thinking.

 

ANJALI

Isn’t that the Obama team style? Sneak out in the middle of the night?

 

ZAC

I’m going to quit.

 

ANJALI

Before they fire you?

 

ZAC

I’m reeling from this as much as you are.

 

ANJALI

No. You’re not. Because you US boys can go back with your cocks between your legs because you haven’t secured Obama’s legacy but you’ll be sleeping safe in your fortified condos once the sea comes knocking. Droughts not going to hit DC, not yet, and all the better for you if thousands drown in Pakistan. And yes, I’ll be sleeping safe too but the people I’m working with don’t have that luxury. Don’t think any NGO will have a shred of something positive to say about this fucking disaster.

 

ZAC

It’s-

 

ANJALI

Don’t tell me it’s something. Because an agreement that we need to stop temperature rise at 2 degrees is less than nothing. It’s not even a pledge, there are pinky swears with more legal power than this! And you know as well as I do what people have been shouting: 2 degrees is suicide.

 

ZAC

Nobody would get behind 1 point five degrees. It wasn’t feasible.

 

ANJALI

Tell that to somebody living in Mali. Or Cameroon. Tell that to the population of Tuvalu. You should have made it fucking feasible.

 

ZAC

You’re right. The talks are a failure. Obama’s a failure. I’m a failure. You don’t need to tell me.

 

ANJALI

I’m all out of pity, don’t even think of looking for it.

 

ANJALI is dressed, starts to pack her suitcase.

ZAC stares at his lanyard, working up to something.

 

ZAC

I’ve been thinking…about this whole mess…what makes sense after I leave-

 

ANJALI

After you’re fired?

 

ZAC

After I quit.

 

ANJALI

I’m sure there’s lots of lucrative opportunities for you.

 

ZAC

I think we should get married.

 

Pause.

 

ANJALI

What?

 

ZAC

I’ve been thinking about this while you were gone-

 

ANJALI

I was in the shower, I didn’t go to fucking Antarctica-

 

ZAC

You take very long showers-

 

ANJALI

I was hoping you’d be gone-

 

ZAC

I’m not like that-

 

ANJALI

No, you don’t get the message-

 

ZAC

Are you really going to ruin this moment?

 

ANJALI

I’d be taking a shit on this moment if I hadn’t already just-

 

ZAC

A delightful image.

 

ANJALI

You’re serious? Really serious?

 

ZAC

Yes.

 

Pause.

ANJALI laughs.

 

ANJALI

You’re not going to kneel?

 

ZAC

Didn’t think you’d be one for ceremony.

 

ANJALI

I just want to be able to kick you in the balls.

 

ZAC

I’m serious.

 

ANJALI

Me too.

 

Pause.

ANJALI pours a drink.

ZAC stands.

 

ZAC

I know you think I’m drunk-

 

ANJALI

We’re both drunk. Except I wish I was drunker-

 

ZAC

But I’ve been thinking about this mess, about how fucked up everything is here and-

 

ANJALI

You think I can be your consolation prize?

 

ZAC

No. But-

 

ANJALI slaps ZAC across the face.

ZAC sits down.

ANJALI pours a drink.

Pause.

 

ANJALI

I’m sorry.

 

ZAC

I’m sorry.

 

ANJALI

You know how strong my commitment to non-violence is.

 

ZAC

I don’t know what was…I think I was in shock…

 

ANJALI

It’s okay.

 

ZAC

I was just thinking about…everything… and it seems like the world is in pieces, like we’re on top of this tower and everything else is crumbling around us and…

 

ANJALI

Let’s not talk about it.

 

ANJALI pours ZAC a drink, sits beside him.

They drink.

Their phones buzz.

 

ANJALI

Have you answered any of them?

 

ZAC

Haven’t looked. You?

 

ANJALI

No.

(beat.)

I should.

(beat.)

I can’t because I hate to think that I was foolish enough to believe that this could work. I knew there would be something to criticize, that the agreement wouldn’t be strong enough, that there would still be work to be done, but I never thought that there would be nothing.

(beat.)

I can’t believe that I believed in the process. That I sold out for this. That I believed that Obama would be any fucking different when it came down to it.

 

ZAC

It’s-

 

ANJALI

Don’t. You should go before I hit you.

 

ZAC

Yes.

 

They stay sitting there, drink.

Phones buzz.

After a moment, ZAC stands, throws his lanyard in the bin, collects his jacket and phone.

He turns to say something to ANJALI but she looks past him.

ZAC exits.

 

ANJALI sits on the bed, drinks, looks at her phone, curls down on the bed and stares out, too empty to cry.

PLAY #123: THE SILENT SEA (APRIL 5)

Copenhagen.

THE LITTLE MERMAID sits onstage, in statue pose.

Sound of multiple planes taking off.

 

THE LITTLE MERMAID

Lots of people don’t get a voice

not just statues

so I shouldn’t complain

especially

as I shouldn’t be talking.

 

Sound of planes.

 

And what would I say?

What do I know about climate negotiations?

Isn’t climate change good for my kind?

Sea sloshing higher

Cities underwater

more fancy condos for mermaids to flick their fins through?

 

Sound of planes.

 

The thing is

the sea is not supposed to be silent

it’s not how humans imagine it at all

this slow peaceful place

as if everything is drifting along to the same beat

Enya or Annie Lenox

or some sort of whale-song.

The sea isn’t supposed to be like that

not when it’s full of life

there’s all sorts of sounds

a multitude of voices.

 

Sound of planes.

 

I understand that it would have been difficult

to include us all at the Climate Summit

getting baths big enough for the whales would have been tough

and the squids and octopui never get along

but

I think our voices might have brought something

urgency

more urgency?

because things won’t be better for us

even as sea swallows land

because the higher the PH of the ocean gets

the less life underwater

until there’ll be hardly anything left

no sounds at all

complete calm.

 

Sounds of more & more planes taking off.

And then silence.

The statue sits.

 

PLAY #78: THE GREAT GLASS CAULDRON (FEB 16)

Geneva, February 2015.

An enormous glass bowl full of paper with a fan inside, so the paper swirls about.

DIPLOMATS add pages to the bowl, as if in a ceremony, throughout the following.

 

WE CAN HOPE and HERE WE GO AGAIN watch.

 

HERE WE GO AGAIN

It’s too much. Lima already had a draft text of 38 pages. The editing solution is to let everybody add what they want until the text doubles in length?

 

WE CAN HOPE

No. It’s good. A transparent process.

 

HERE WE GO AGAIN

You think it’ll last once everybody gets to Paris?

 

WE CAN HOPE

It has to.

 

HERE WE GO AGAIN

It’ll be the same as-

 

WE CAN HOPE

Don’t!

 

HERE WE GO AGAIN holds breath: Copenhagen hanging in the air.

 

HERE WE GO AGAIN

That’s how it was before 2009 too, a commitment to openness. And then once everybody arrived in-

 

WE CAN HOPE

Don’t!

 

HERE WE GO AGAIN holds breath, the shadow of Copenhagen felt again.

 

HERE WE GO AGAIN

The geography of climate conferences prefers corridors. No way a huddle can include 194 countries.

 

WE CAN HOPE

Still we can-

 

HERE WE GO AGAIN

Hope?

 

WE CAN HOPE

Yes.

 

HERE WE GO AGAIN shrugs.

DIPLOMATS continue to walk towards the large glass bowl, adding texts.

Paper swirling about inside.