A game of hide and seek with terror. The stage is completely in shadow. We are in The War Zone. There is a slight sound of something very large smacking its lips. It is subtle, yet disturbing. A spot rises on THE GRANDMOTHER (the oldest living thing) standing center. Though ancient, she is elegant and graceful. Her skin resembles tree bark and vine. She addresses the audience as lights rise on the stage. Open the play [+/-] THE GRANDMOTHER: Fear! Terror! Horror! (Her voice echoes.) Fear tosses its colossal head on the rooftops of Iraq, on the rooftops of the world! Look upon your terror! (We now see the bodies of Iraqi men, women and children and US and coalition troops lying all over the stage motionless.) It has not the countenance of man! It is monstrous! A grotesque formation of man’s greed! Is this what you want for your children, this- an ogre of your own making? It tosses its colossal head upon the rooftops of the world! You are not free of it! (Four weary Iraqi citi
(The Weaver's Song)