A heavy mist envelops the dark primeval forest on this night. From the towering cathedral-like branches of the ancient trees, the Centurions as some like to call them, droplets of water fall to the forest floor - projectiles, which send the smaller creatures of the night scurrying for cover. There is the fragrance of dampness - water upon the decaying leaves and fallen branches that cover the ground. The moon is not to be seen - its light blocked by the thickness of the mist. Still, along the pathway that meanders through these dampened woods, a flicker of light shines from the stone cottage - a lantern by the door - forever burning. Like a tiny beacon, the glow from the candle within casts an eerie hue through the fog. Its light does not penetrate very far however, so thick is the air with the cloud of watery droplets.
Inside the cottage the candles burn as always; they cast dancing shadows upon the red and black curtained walls that line the large hall. The aroma of recently burned leaves and nag champa fill the air. There is no music to be heard on this night. There are neither the captivating and melancholic violin riffs that often fill this place, nor the sound of guitar, atmospheric keyboards, drums or vocals. There is only silence.
Beyond the red curtain - inside the master bedroom, Era relaxes in her favorite armchair. Here, only the crackling of burning logs in the fireplace breaks the silence as she rests - eyes half closed - she, the perfect picture of contentment in this homey atmosphere.
Suddenly, her eyes open and he quickly transforms herself into a state of high alertness. For a moment she looks around the room; then, climbing down from the chair, races toward a window. Jumping upon the sill, he gazes out into the eerie darkness with penetrating green eyes. The mist is thick, and even with his keen eyesight, Era Dynamics is unable to peer beyond the watery veil. Jumping down from the windowsill, she returns to the chair and once again gazes into the fire. This time however, there will be no return to a state of total relaxation, there will only be feelings of uncertainty and perhaps even fear - of what she is not certain.
Era Dynamics: It sometimes amazes me as to how quickly time seems to fly; after all, I feel as though it was only yesterday that I'd had my Edge of Sanity encounter with Jack Johnson and our subsequent trip to his world - a world of the dead perhaps? Yet, it was a world to which I'd been able to gain access - with someone's help of course. And speaking of Jack, I can't help wondering what he might be doing right now. Is he spending the winter creating her music by the warm fires in his most unusual home? Does winter even exist in that world? Yes, I saw his body leaving me that morning. I realize that he has passed on - and yet, there he was! And he took me to a most unique world, where I experienced friendship that was beyond my wildest dreams.
When it comes to Jack and the events that transpired during the days surrounding Edge of sanity, my mind seems to be in a constant state of confusion - constant analysis, concerns about him well being, the constant uncertainty about an encounter that I believe was real; and yet, seems so unbelievable. Most of all, my spirit still yearns for him. In spite of the six or so weeks that have passed since we were together, I continue to feel as strongly for him as I did when I first saw him again in the federation and heard his beautiful music at the concert a few nights later. My mind holds onto visions of his mysterious world.
In spite of all this, I am feeling a certain sense of contentment on this evening; for in the course of several weeks, autumn has given way to winter. A cold wind is blowing from the north. It's blowing over the mountains, down the highway, and across the farms and the shadowlands; dispersing a light snow in the wake of each icy gust. The Ozark landscape is beginning to take on a whiter hue as the snow begins sticking to the grass, the now-dead cornstalks, and the branches of trees. Inside my abode a wood stove burns; its fire crackles as if offering warm assurances in contrast to the icy wind that lurks just beyond the doors and windows. There's no music playing tonight. I will sitting quietly as I savor my humble but adequate defense against my first opponent this new season.I'm not going to lie. This could be dangerous for us, especially since i am somewhat limited by my physical body. But you know now that death is only a doorway that leads to other existences - existences such as mine. What I ask of you won't be difficult. I simply need your blood in order to reinforce my own.
With that last words she put more wood on the fire, shut off the water pipes to protect them against freezing and sitting back in the armchair while the camera fades out.
Inside the cottage the candles burn as always; they cast dancing shadows upon the red and black curtained walls that line the large hall. The aroma of recently burned leaves and nag champa fill the air. There is no music to be heard on this night. There are neither the captivating and melancholic violin riffs that often fill this place, nor the sound of guitar, atmospheric keyboards, drums or vocals. There is only silence.
Beyond the red curtain - inside the master bedroom, Era relaxes in her favorite armchair. Here, only the crackling of burning logs in the fireplace breaks the silence as she rests - eyes half closed - she, the perfect picture of contentment in this homey atmosphere.
Suddenly, her eyes open and he quickly transforms herself into a state of high alertness. For a moment she looks around the room; then, climbing down from the chair, races toward a window. Jumping upon the sill, he gazes out into the eerie darkness with penetrating green eyes. The mist is thick, and even with his keen eyesight, Era Dynamics is unable to peer beyond the watery veil. Jumping down from the windowsill, she returns to the chair and once again gazes into the fire. This time however, there will be no return to a state of total relaxation, there will only be feelings of uncertainty and perhaps even fear - of what she is not certain.
Era Dynamics: It sometimes amazes me as to how quickly time seems to fly; after all, I feel as though it was only yesterday that I'd had my Edge of Sanity encounter with Jack Johnson and our subsequent trip to his world - a world of the dead perhaps? Yet, it was a world to which I'd been able to gain access - with someone's help of course. And speaking of Jack, I can't help wondering what he might be doing right now. Is he spending the winter creating her music by the warm fires in his most unusual home? Does winter even exist in that world? Yes, I saw his body leaving me that morning. I realize that he has passed on - and yet, there he was! And he took me to a most unique world, where I experienced friendship that was beyond my wildest dreams.
When it comes to Jack and the events that transpired during the days surrounding Edge of sanity, my mind seems to be in a constant state of confusion - constant analysis, concerns about him well being, the constant uncertainty about an encounter that I believe was real; and yet, seems so unbelievable. Most of all, my spirit still yearns for him. In spite of the six or so weeks that have passed since we were together, I continue to feel as strongly for him as I did when I first saw him again in the federation and heard his beautiful music at the concert a few nights later. My mind holds onto visions of his mysterious world.
In spite of all this, I am feeling a certain sense of contentment on this evening; for in the course of several weeks, autumn has given way to winter. A cold wind is blowing from the north. It's blowing over the mountains, down the highway, and across the farms and the shadowlands; dispersing a light snow in the wake of each icy gust. The Ozark landscape is beginning to take on a whiter hue as the snow begins sticking to the grass, the now-dead cornstalks, and the branches of trees. Inside my abode a wood stove burns; its fire crackles as if offering warm assurances in contrast to the icy wind that lurks just beyond the doors and windows. There's no music playing tonight. I will sitting quietly as I savor my humble but adequate defense against my first opponent this new season.I'm not going to lie. This could be dangerous for us, especially since i am somewhat limited by my physical body. But you know now that death is only a doorway that leads to other existences - existences such as mine. What I ask of you won't be difficult. I simply need your blood in order to reinforce my own.
With that last words she put more wood on the fire, shut off the water pipes to protect them against freezing and sitting back in the armchair while the camera fades out.
