We went in expecting advice, a toolkit, something you could carry out in your pocket. We were wrong. There are no quick seminars on grief.

Instead, Meteors is theatrical prose: clean and honest, affirming courage and strength of sharing through experience.

It sits in what is usually left unsaid, in what you wish you knew what to say. It holds the ache of a shaped absence, the weight of everything, and the quiet persistence of love that has nowhere to land. I left wiping a tear, thinking about my mum, quietly grateful personally to the artist, and certain I will keep looking up at the stars.