An empty theatre, at night, after a show has finished. The rattle and chatter of the audience has died away; last night’s drinks have been quaffed; doors have been locked. Now there’s no one here but us ghosts.

Ah, but someone is here. There is a stumbling step and a faltering entrance onto the stage. An old actor, who had fallen asleep in the dressing room, wakes to find himself alone in the dark, empty building, confronting not just the ghosts of the theatre itself but his own ghosts, his own darkness. Luckily, it appears he is not alone.

This play, written specially for The Everyman, carries echoes of previous texts, previous performances into the void and creates a dialogue between the performer and the empty, or not so empty – space.