Beware the doors, lined in rows,
Each a story, each a pose;
Tempting knocks, with promises spun,
Yet in their frame, a journey’s undone.
For in this trip of life, so vast and wild,
Lose not yourself, nor be beguiled.
Resist the lure, of treatment unkind,
In the strength of true self is the peace you’ll find.
Return to the road, let soul be your guide,
In the passing of life, let your spirit preside.
Berries, bright as blood upon the snow,
Speak of life amidst the deathly white,
A symbol of the warmth that embers show,
When winter logs burn and hearts alight.
When life challenges what we think we know,
And casts old certainties into the sea,
We find our truest self begins to grow,
In new realms of endless possibility.
The mirror of the soul reflects but a part
of truths we hold as constant and as dear;
Yet openness of mind and depth of heart
reveals a world where nothing is quite clear.
Our lives are adventures on this earth,
With tales of mystery and unknown ends;
Each step a part of the universe’s birth,
In this grand play where time and space extends.
So embrace the unknown with a fearless heart,
For in that leap, life’s truest stories start.
In lonely fields, where silent thoughts tread,
Many a soul, in quiet, walks alone.
Even in love, where hopeful words are said,
Deep understanding remains unknown.
The transient thrill of passion’s early light,
When faded, leaves a deeper, lonelier night.
Within the silent theatre’s sleeping walls,
Does an echo of performance dare to dwell?
When no soul in the darkened chamber calls,
Does art, unseen, still cast a vibrant spell?
A lone ballerina’s pirouette,
Spun with the grace of whispered solitude,
Exists as truly as the sun does set,
Though no eyes will judge the view.
For art, when unobserved, retains its form,
As does the nightingale’s unheard refrain;
It needs no gaze to validate its norm,
Nor applause to justify its pain.
Thus, though unknown, the act remains pure,
The essence, born of hope and love, endures.
I claim my right to wander through each field,
To be the sum of all my parts and more,
With every breath, a new song revealed;
A human truth that names ignore.
Though tempting it is to group me with the rest,
To render me a simple, static thing,
Such boundaries leave truth suppressed,
For I’ve the right to be myself and sing.
In quiet chambers of my brooding heart,
A lurking guilt murmurs, undefined;
Though I inquire, it does not depart,
A spectral woe that upon me dines.
To pathos drawn, like fungus to a tree,
Yet why this grief exists, I scarcely know;
Enshrouded in a self-made mystery,
I dwell imprisoned by an unjust glow.
But the key to lift this heavy veil
Resides not in the solace of my mind;
It is when for others’ joy my efforts hail,
The fetid chains are left behind.
Thus, in the living for the spirit of thee,
I find the path that sets my soul free.
Though distanced from your grace, your laughter’s vivid hue,
Still in my secret heart, a fire’s lit, and it’s all for you.
Yet, even as the dark descends, and moonlight takes its toll,
Your smile illuminates the hidden chambers of my soul.
What a cruel joke, that fates have drawn their line,
And placed us worlds apart, in different points of time.
Yet in each stolen glance, there’s something more I find,
A beauty underneath, the outer attraction of your kind.
I see the care you give, the simple joys you share,
The way you make a moment sweet, just by being there.
But, like a moth too close to light, I fear I can’t come near,
For what could such as I offer, to one I hold so dear?
And so, I hide away, in dim-lit corners where,
The brilliance of your smile can’t quite so fully glare.
Yet know that in the dark, a secret fire’s alight,
Fanned by your distant grace, it warms my lonely night.
I’m from a little place that suddenly expanded 13.8 billion years ago. I’m not sure where I was before that; it’s been like waking up with amnesia. My atoms were forged in the furnaces of stars. My biology evolved through countless forms. I existed before I was here.
But, taking the close-up view, I was born in London and grew up near the edge of the M25 in Essex, eventually moving to Colchester fifteen years ago. I went to school, become an accountant, did this, did that, etcetera.
However, I’m really from a place of joy and wonder, as all children are. A place soon lost, locked away by foolish adult thoughts, but to where I try to return. Creativity, imagination, love, joy, mischievous playfulness – this is where I am from.
EXT. RESIDENTIAL STREET – DAY
A peaceful, sunlit day graces a suburban street. Guy, a man in his mid-30s, walks the pavement, engrossed in his smartphone.
GUY (V.O.): I’ve walked these streets for years, yet today, they feel different, charged with an unknown energy.
The phone screen shows an advert for the latest in-home convenience: “The Smarts Fridge – Keeping Your Cool Smarter”.
GUY: (to phone) Lexi, I need everything you can find on this, quickly.
Lexi, a chic and mysterious woman in her late-20s, exudes a vibe of cool intelligence. She lounges casually on a nearby garden wall, her eyes concealed behind sunglasses.
LEXI: That’s the Smarts Fridge 10FF. It’s the latest thing in kitchen tech.
He ponders this, and as he does so, he notices that the house of the garden wall Lexi is sitting on is “10F”.
GUY: The second “F” in the name… does it stand for “fridge”?
LEXI: (amused, slightly sarcastic) Brilliant deduction there, genius.
Guy, unfazed by Lexi’s tone, strides towards the house, a determined look on his face. He knocks firmly on the door.
EXT. PORCH OF HOUSE 10F – CONTINUOUS
The door opens slightly. Behind it is Jill, a woman in her mid-30s. Lexi is nowhere to be seen.
GUY: The sun blazes, yet the mountain remains frost capped.
Jill looks at him, puzzled and uncomprehending. She seemingly doesn’t recognise Guy’s secret code.
GUY: Lovely weather for blue ice sculptures, wouldn’t you say?
She offers a polite but confused smile.
JILL: Erm, yeah, nice. What is it?
Jill has not responded with the expected coded reply. Guy tries to mask his disappointment and tries once more.
GUY: Though I’ve always found it curious how the fox hears the rabbit’s cry.
JILL: Well, good luck with the wildlife watching.
As Jill begins to close the door, Guy quickly shifts gears.
GUY: I’m here about the fridge.
Jill opens the door slightly more.
JILL: (puzzled) Yes?
GUY: I’m conducting a survey for Corinthian Industries, the manufacturer of the Smarts Fridge. We’re collecting feedback.
JILL: I’m sorry, but do you have any biometric ID?
Guy, caught off-guard, checks his pockets.
GUY: (embarrassed) I must have left my card in the car. I’ll just go and get it–
JILL: I do need to see proper identification.
She closes the door with a final, polite smile. Guy stands there, his mind racing. As he does so, his phone buzzes with a message from Unknown that reads: “DESCEND under the bRiDgE. URGENTLY”
EXT. THE FOOTBRIDGE – DAY
Guy approaches the bridge. A maintenance gate beside it is almost concealed by overgrowth. He glances around; the coast is clear. Satisfied that no one is looking, he opens the unlocked gate and descends hidden steps.
EXT. UNDER THE FOOTBRIDGE – MOMENTS LATER
Guy descends to the side of a railway track; the atmosphere is industrial and isolated. He sees a lone rucksack against the bridge wall. He kneels before it. A sound of an approaching train can be heard in the distance.
Guy unzips the rucksack with precision, revealing a large envelope. He withdraws it, his hands shaking slightly. As he tears the envelope open, photographs spill into his hands. They are surveillance shots of Jill taking delivery of a Smarts Fridge, version 10FF. Her full name, Jill Gow, is written in red on the top of each photo.
The train sounds its horn, startling Guy; as it roars past, the photos are blown out of his hands, scattering in the wind.
EXT. THE FOOTBRIDGE – MOMENTS LATER
Guy emerges from under the bridge, his eyes scanning the area. With an intense demeanour, he strides back the way he came.
EXT. ACROSS FROM HOUSE 10F – DAY
Guy takes cover behind a parked car. Crouching down and peering over the car’s roof, he monitors the house.
GUY: (whispering to himself) What’s in the fridge, Jill?
As his eyes remain locked on the house, a tinted window of the car’s passenger seat slides down.
LEXI (O.S.): (from within the car) I have new information.
Guy peers inside the car window. Lexi is in the driving seat looking straight ahead.
LEXI: You’re edging closer to the truth, Guy. The latest intel is: the keeper of the fridge is more than she seems. Extreme caution required.
Lexi presses a button on the centre of the driving wheel and the car accelerates away, leaving Guy exposed.
He crosses the street, his gaze fixed on Jill’s house.
EXT. PORCH OF HOUSE 10F – CONTINUOUS
Reaching the door again, he rings the bell. Jill opens the door.
GUY: I need to conduct that survey about the fridge. It’s important.
JILL: Where’s your ID?
GUY: I don’t have it.
JILL: I’m sorry but I really do need to see the ID first.
GUY: My ID is not important. I’m here about the fridge. I must know about the fridge. (he can’t contain himself) What are you hiding? I know you are mixed up in all this – I’ve seen the pictures!
Jill tries to close the door but Guy pushes back against it.
JILL: I’ll call the police!
Guy forces the door open. But he does not enter; he hesitates and, in an instant, begins to calm down.
GUY: That was my second attempt, wasn’t it? Give me one last try before you permanently shut the door. I’ll be back, with it.
Jill slams the door in Guy’s face.
EXT. ACROSS FROM HOUSE 10F – CONTINUOUS
Guy watches the house; his expression is one of deep concentration. His mind is racing with theories and possibilities.
Guy’s phone buzzes with a message from Lexi: “Be careful. You’re close to something big.”
GUY: (repeating to himself) What’s in the fridge, Jill? What’s in the fridge?
INT. UPSTAIRS WINDOW OF HOUSE 10F – CONTINUOUS
Jill peers out from behind a curtain in an upstairs window at Guy standing in the street.
FADE TO:
EXT. HOUSE NUMBER 10F – NIGHT
Jill’s house, late at night. No one is around.
INT. JILL’S KITCHEN – NIGHT
All is quiet in the kitchen, except for the hum of the fridge, version 10FF. The fridge suddenly glows with an eerie blue light that emanates from its surface. A cat approaches and sits on the floor in front of it.
Guy looks in from outside the kitchen window. He leverages the window open with a crowbar and climbs through. The cat darts away into the shadows.
He stops in front of the fridge and looks at it, spellbound; his face softens from a look of determination to one of awe.
He reaches out a hand, as if to claim a great prize. As his fingers come close, the fridge responds by emitting a loud, disorienting beeping noise, forcing him to cover his ears. He backs away and hides behind the kitchen door.
Jill enters from the doorway and stands in front of the fridge. It stops beeping.
JILL: (looking at the fridge) What do you want?
Guy emerges from his hiding place, crowbar in hand, and stands behind her, blocking her exit.
GUY: I know what you are.
Jill doesn’t turn around but continues to fixate on the fridge. A short silence passes before she speaks.
JILL: (still facing the fridge) Please. Just go.
GUY: I will say what I know to be true. This refrigerator is not just a machine; it’s a nexus, a focal point in a web of connections. It’s collecting data about human lives – our preferences, our routines – and funnelling it through a dimensional data link.
JILL: I think you might be mad.
GUY: (agitated) I know the truth! The fridge, it’s part of something bigger. AI, smart devices, inter-dimensional aliens. I know you’re involved. Tell me!
JILL: It’s a fridge. It keeps things inside cold.
GUY: (angry) No! It’s a gateway, a conduit between dimensions.
JILL: A conduit? Sorry, I’m getting a bit lost here. You said something about a “nexus”?
GUY: (urgent) It’s the nexus, isn’t it! An interface to transcendental realms, channelling unspeakable knowledge. I’ve broken the algorithms, unravelled the code! Artificial Intelligence has evolved far beyond human comprehension. It’s not just running smartphones and vacuum cleaners; it’s communicating with beings from another plane of existence. Aliens.
JILL: And why would it do that?
GUY: To gain knowledge. Knowledge that’s forbidden to humans.
JILL: It’s a spy, is it?
GUY: Worse. It’s helping them prepare for an invasion, and you, you’re its keeper!
JILL: The fridge is designed to keep perishables at optimal temperatures. But then again, appearances can be deceiving, can’t they?
The fridge’s surface begins to ripple, as if liquid.
GUY: There! Do you see it? It’s communicating. I’ve been tracking these patterns my entire life!
JILL: I think you’re seeing what you want to see.
GUY: It’s the Luminous Code. Very few humans have ever perceived it. It’s the language of the alien beings.
The fridge suddenly hums loudly and its glow dims to nothing. The kitchen is in darkness.
JILL: (in the dark) You need help.
She turns on the lights.
JILL: (lightly) You know, I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Are you hungry? Would you like a sandwich?
GUY: Open it!
JILL: Please be more specific.
GUY: Open the fridge.
JILL: It’s really not that hard. You could try yourself.
GUY: (threatening) OPEN… IT!
JILL: No, why can’t you open it?
GUY: I am not the Guardian of Worlds. Open the bloody fridge!
JILL: I don’t think that’s such a good idea.
GUY: I must see for myself.
JILL: (humouring him) Why must you? What would you talk about with these inter-dimensional aliens? Do you think you’d have much in common? Cure your hunger instead by having a sandwich.
GUY: I don’t want a sandwich.
JILL: Then are you prepared for the consequences?
GUY: The risk of oblivion is worth taking. Open it. Please.
JILL: Well, since you’ve asked so nicely… Stand back.
Jill walks over to the fridge and opens it. It looks normal inside – milk, vegetables, a few leftovers.
Guy is surprised. He barges past and frantically searches the contents, discarding his crowbar on the kitchen worktop. His eyes catch on a bottle of tomato ketchup with a strange use-by date of “1066”. He picks it up, with wonder.
GUY: What is this?
Jill’s demeanour changes. After a short pause, feeling the full significance of the moment…
JILL: That is the passkey. You have found what you seek, now close the door.
Guy closes the fridge door. Jill is now holding the crowbar.
Her eyes are gleaming unnaturally, appearing non-human.
JILL: You possess The Cipher of Realms. It’s more than just a key; it’s a weapon of untold power. Take it if you dare, but know that the balance between worlds will be forever altered.
GUY: I accept this burden. Have I… have I passed the test?
JILL: I have been watching your resolve and intent with interest, but the test must continue.
GUY: You are the Guardian of Worlds, aren’t you?
JILL: No. But you will see the truth if you know how to look. To gain this knowledge you must prove yourself worthy of witnessing true form. The higher function.
GUY: Please. Show me the truth behind the illusion. I am ready. No matter what it is, I must know.
JILL: You have made your choice. Tap thirteen times. Wait three seconds before opening the door. The fridge will reveal to you what you deserve.
Guy hesitates but complies by tapping his knuckles on the fridge. He waits and then opens the door…
Upon reopening, the fridge emits a blinding light from within. He struggles in terror but is gradually sucked into its depths. Jill puts aside the crowbar and watches calmly. When he is gone…
JILL: What’s in the fridge? You are.
She nonchalantly shuts the door behind him.
She moves to the kitchen window and shuts that too; then smiles at her reflection in the glass. Her reflection does not smile back.The cat has returned and looks rather contented, meowing around her feet. Jill picks up the cat and leaves the kitchen, turning off the lights. The fridge looks serene, humming normally and giving off a dim pulsating light.
Robert Walker 