There is no sound in this black and white world missing even the word of the bolex drawing in what it sees without comment images to flicker on future walls projecting a past world in black and white. A boy and girl climbed the wooded dirt path beside a green lake somewhere far below, followed by mother coming up behind, saying words now lost somewhere in the past, and father unseen behind the bolex. The girl runs down a road in Vietnam screaming in silence as an apalm burns her, while a newsman weeps behind his bolex, while the world weeps at this black and white scene, knows things can no longer be black and white. The car door opens over and over, while the girl and boy follow each other out of the car, out of the car, like magic, black and white and silent without ending, controlled by the man behind the bolex. Over and over passenger jets crash twin towers into reasons for new wars, while the New York artist in his loft makes moving images with an old bolex, knowing nothing is truly black and white. The boy sales a kite gently in the sky as he runs through the fields eternally, looped slow-mo over and over again. The man with the bolex keeping the dark just out of reach where it can't touch this boy, and Frank writes her diary in an attic, knows the men in uniforms will come soon, bearing death for her family and her, writes with no bolex to tell this story, as the attic closes in on her life. A girl on the cabin's porch is reading, while across the meadow a deer watches, her dad in the doorway filming this girl, her thoughts far away in a dark attic with another girl about her own age. Unfeeling uniformed men with guns watch people undressed for the waiting showers, then enter a dark room they'll never leave. While the gas stacks naked bodies like blocks, all shot for the record with a bolex. On a sunny day somewhere in the west, her boy chases a dog through prairie grass, while the man with the bolex follows him, pleased to catch the fire of the summer sun above this boy and dog in black and white. The eastern suns its low in the sky where rockets explode in the city burns, while across the way festive crowds gather, cheering with joy at fireworks in the dusk, while an antique bolex records it all. There must be bird song in the fields in woods yet there is no sound in these images, no color among the black and white fields where light and dark are given equal weight the bolex records but never judges. Above Japan three men wait the moment, little boy falls from the bombay, silence all around them like death calling, then fire takes innocence out of their world, while the great artist's bolex captures all. In a sunlit world without sound or color, a boy and girl seem to live forever, dream of love floating across perfect fields, but it stops to leave a single image where a spark spreads until nothing is left.