Home Office   In the moonlit corner of a forsaken theatre, the ruins of past performances lay scattered, as if the very soul of the stage had erupted. The aftermath of a dramatic climax, perhaps, where raw emotions surged and a passionate narrative consumed all in its path. Crumpled pages, potential remnants of an unfinished script, are strewn across the floor - stories that never saw the light. A lone chair stands amidst the chaos, bearing silent testimony to the turmoil. The painted wall, smeared and scarred, may have been the canvas for a desperate message or an artwork that lost its form in the heat of the moment.