Where are we now? We seemed to be trapped in a kind of limbo for ages and then...
We standing on some weird grassy area. No building's close by.
Oh this doesn't feel good.
That pretty woman walking over there might help.
I'll shout to get her attention. "Hello! How are things?"
Very strange. She's not even acknowledging us. Oh she is. Now she's not.
Hang on. I'll go and talk with her.
Well that chat took some time. Sorry about her shouting. She was also coughing so much I could hardly understand anything she said. She was Vivien Leigh. I didn't know her name until she mentioned her ex-husband. At first she said he was called Larry and then she told me the things he'd achieved and I twigged she was talking about the famous actor Lawrence Olivier. At that point I realised who she was. She was crying so much about him and how she'd prefer a short life with him than a long one without him.
She knew they'd become divorced and blamed herself for their breakup. She wanted to become or felt she'd become Lavinia. At first I didn't understand her then she got angry and shouted the name of the play over and over at me.
A horrible play from Shakespeare. It was horrible because it was so gruesome. I never want to see it again. Lavinia was a character who was raped and horribly mutilated.
She kept comparing herself to Lavinia. In between her coughing fits she kept blaming herself and hating her looks.
She didn't want to speak to me again but she did say it was July 1967.
That I know was an extraordinary month with terrible events. More disasters in that month than in half a dozen years.
Where had she disappeared to?
Maybe she ran into that glowing fog - like dense clouds of sparkly dust slowly floating towards us.
Moaning - can you hear the moaning?
Groaning from men speaking different languages. I can't make out any words. Different languages.
There can you see?
Men staggering towards us. They've got faces smeared with dirt, blood and gold dust.