Before we start, a rule for anyone joining us:
In my podcast, Shakespeare—the character—has the ability to look back from our present day to his life on earth.
So he can react to films, modern productions, scholarship, the whole lot.
But—this matters—he cannot predict the future in any way.
No prophecies. No “coming attractions.” No magic spoilers.
WILL:
I may remember, yes. I may reflect. I may even revise my opinions.
But I may not play oracle.
GEORGE:
Perfect. Because today is not fortune-telling.
It’s a conversation across centuries—about what it feels like when the world closes its doors.
GEORGE:
Let’s start with something simple and terrifying:
A day begins, and you don’t know what the day is going to cost you.
WILL:
That is a fine definition of plague time.
GEORGE:
Paint me a scene. Not the grand history-book stuff.
One street. One door. One ordinary person.
WILL (slow, precise):
Very well. Imagine a London lane.
Not a romantic lane—no charming cobbles for tourists—
a lane that smells of work and waste and too many bodies too close together.
A woman opens her shutters…
and she does not look for the weather.
She looks for silence.
Because silence means the carts have not begun.
Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.
