How does war impact people who believe in it?
What does it do to people who live through it?
How does it feel to begin to doubt it?
This play is a flood of sensations streaming out of the madness of militarism half-aware of itself.
"I'm going to create a Sanctuary, a place inside myself first where I tell the truth," says a character toward the end, as if telling the truth to others openly would be a difficult, second step to someday follow telling the truth to oneself.
For how many people is that true?
How many of them might it help to hear someone else tell the truth in a room of someone elses listening and appreciating?