January 10. Plea for century-old theatre after drop in members

 

Jun, trying his best to not seem tired and irritable, addressed the committee.

“Last night was hard for everyone, well done for pulling together, but I think we need to consider an alternative solution.” he paused, hoping for some affirmation but no one spoke.

Freed from the daily grind and depressing commute the people of the imagined future had quickly began to take up any and every opportunity available to them. Perhaps unconsciously fearful the devil would find work for idle hands, every knitting circle, orienteering club and millennial LARP group found itself inundated with enquiries, somewhat ironically causing a great deal of work and logistical problem solving up and down the country.

The woman with a face like a blunt pencil whose name he couldn’t ever remember, stood up and cleared her throat.

“I don’t care if we have a hundred or a thousand knock on that door tonight, I am ready, I know my lines and if need be, we can do it outside, it’s not that cold”

Murmurs of agreement and ridicule mixed together, coated in greasepaint.

“But tomorrow night?” Jun asked the group.

“We meet again, at five, same as today.”

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