It's forty million miles. Two and a half years, yeah? It takes a radiowave - right? Travelling at the speed of fucking light, 13 minutes, to get back from Mars. So ...if anything goes wrong - anything at all - out there ...they're really ...they're on their own, you know?
D C Moore's short play examines the ties that hold us together in a fractured society. In a decaying pub in South London, preparations are being made for a wake. With only an hour before their guests arrive, a family begin to settle their accounts.
