The hospital air conditioner is in need of service again. 4 bodies awaiting identification and autopsy, wake up at the morgue, in anticipation of the afterlife, if there is one. They have as much human consciousness as they have warmth. They are carried away by glossolalia. In and out of awareness, the audience amble and hasten with them through their dreams, memories, fears and revelations.
Tongues shifts abruptly between confessional rants, poignant recollections and manic hallucinations. The text is devised in part from stories gathered through surveys, interviews, and playback theatre sessions.
What happens when the air conditioner is finally repaired and the cold temperature is restored? How do you express yourself through your body, through your voice, if you believe that your body cannot be expressive?
Math Paper Press