In the cosmic theater the world is coming to an end. Waiting for the end. The last year of the unfortunate dating history of “humanity” and “Earth” has begun, a fling with the rocket to Mars has been forgiven, but humanity has a “smoker’s cough”. A couple bravely holds their ground here and knits dresses with one to eight legs – who knows what the next species on the planet will look like. She should also find memories of us in time capsules. Oh, if only people had recorded birdsong back when that still existed, the neighbor who came along would regret it. On the radio (stage and costumes Michael Lindner) every word of the dictionary is read out again between power blackouts and hits are played, each one for the last time.
