The Book of Truth
The scene is covered in snow-like grain; a layer of dust on top of our vision.
Here we see a reel of film on a dusty table. There is some light from above, otherwise darkness.
Two hands reach for the film. Young hands, they take the ends of the tape and put them together.
The screen goes white. Here we see an unblinking eye in the same darkness. Snow is falling around the iris, some hangs on the lashes. You might think the eye is crying. But the water is a layer of snow on top of the image of the eye.
Blink. Everything turns to white for a micro-second.
Here we see a bus, going down a road. The snow is the same, it is falling down, twisting in the wind. A wintry road, twisting and snaking it’s way through a frozen land and on the road the bus, with dark windows and one passenger. He is a man. Come closer and see, here he sits. He is tired, his eyes sag, his face is gray. You wish him the best, and that’s when he notices you behind the glass.
He says: ‘So you’ve come at last. Let me tell you the truth.’
A pair of hands wipes away the snow from the window.
- We must rewind this scene.
And so the scene is rewound. A buzz of light and color and noise.
Here we can see it again from another view. A young boy floats in the air, almost a reflection in the wintry sky. He glides down, down quietly and softly. Ghost-like. His tender motions make you feel yourself sad. You look at him through the window with tired eyes. The boy presses his face and hands against the glass of the car. You see him speak, but you cannot hear him.
- This is the truth.