COLOURS IN A CRASH

in #genesisproject7 years ago

6e89e4eea1ea521df38b545091774521--types-of-people-my-people.jpg

‘Colours In a Crash’ dramatically tells the tale of men of different races that survive a plane crash whose trauma affects their behaviours and their ability to call some items by their names, therefore coining new names for such items. Their interactive relationship is an exhumation of the past occurrences among races, especially between Blacks and Whites; the depiction of present occurrences, even though they are in a different world now; and the prediction of the future of racism and the desperation for power common among humans. Other themes it touches include: corruption, war, terrorism and zealous concerns of supernatural beings in human matters.

CHARACTERS
Chief Deity
Assistant Deity
Mr. Negroid
Mr. Caucasoid
Mr. Mongoloid
Mr. Semitic
Three military men

List Of Scenes:
Scenes 1- 20

SCENE 1
Skycrescent, the palace where the Chief Deity abides, invisible host sings in riverine voices that trickle concrete sweetness into the heart. The Chief Deity is in his glittering white robe, on his star studded crown that shines like a mountain of diamonds which gains the gazing of the sun by its ineffable beauty; and seated on his fiery throne. His footstool, at times trembles under his feet.
Chief Deity ( His voice, to the hearing ,is the taste of honey on the tongue to his courtiers’ ears ). The hair of trees on earth or I should say, in my footstool has risen to its orgasm. Wind whistles the augmented augur from this footstool and makes cold, the health of this hymn. So the lumps in the pounded yam of this and future hymns must be raided and executed, even though the host vocally pounds the hymns with ease (he calls). Assistant Deity...

Assistant Deity (The Assistant Deity pops and puffs in the form of smoke, then forms fire, then forms into a holy being on military wears. On his head, there's a crown also studded with stars). Your servant is air when you ask him to be here. And he is deer when you point there.
Chief Deity ( Stands, moves close to Assistant Deity then rests his hand amicably on Assistant Deity's shoulder). Go into my footstool and slice the gizzards of these issues open. Let's see the inside of the lizards that nod endlessly. Epaulettes are drunk with patience. They want to make your shoulders their twigs of honour.

(Silence as the Assistant Deity disappears except the hymn that trickles straight like flashlight, and staggers as a drunken stream intermittently).
FEW SECONDS LATER.
Assistant Deity (Appears in the usual enchanting form). Gas is heavier than spirit. So, before a hymn blinks, I assume my form again before your throne and concrete glory and out of your footstool. On earth, a metallic bird went ballistic and the rage frightened trees. And the whistling of the wind was an alarm that called for assistance. As it went intractable in its rage, the side of its ribs burst open and some of your clayey creatures descended using the air-filled organs of the bird with some nerves that systematically whirled around them and the air-filled organs.
Chief Deity (Now on his throne) Did the bird hit a tree?
Assistant Deity: Exactly. It crashed, consumed by its rage. Humans have furnace in whatever they create. Well, did I myself not put thorns in roses?
Chief Deity (Hits the top of the footstool with one of his legs). That is how my footstool should be. A part should be down while another should be up. Desert against oceans; heat against cold; Moon against Sun: my footstool is made of contradictions.
Assistant Deity ( Smiles and bows) And now we have water against fire because, after the undivided beak of the bird hit the tree, the furnace purportedly housed in the bird's crop escaped and I thought it was a metallic kingfisher when it dived into an ocean. But there, its rage devoured it.
Chief Deity (Adjusts himself on his seat) You have done well. Go into the hive of honour where bees of glory await to swarm you.
(Hymn rises, and then falls as light fades).