As I walk along the coast I sit and rest at a place where the waves crash. There’s a Razorbill flying towards me and it only sees me after it has landed. I stay very still.
It’s confident enough to go into its nest, a long square crack in the rocks. I move slowly towards it. Then I see a movement beside me and a black and white cat races towards the nest, climbs and jumps over the rocks and lands inside the nest.
It peers out at me and, as I approach, disappears inside.
I clamber up slowly, gripping onto the rocks and look inside the long crack of the nest, with light shining in from the far side. There’s a small bemused-looking Razorbill chick and no sign of the Razorbill, the fish or the cat.
It’s a disappearing act. As I lever myself down I wonder what will happen to all the players in this, Act 1. I suspect a death before the interval.