Scene:

A spider in the fire light
weaves a solemn web

Cue the drumbeat, slow and steady...

Now the bass...

Bring up the volume...

Narrator:

'In death, breath no longer has meaning'

Increase volume on bass...

'In life, it is the essence of being'

Cue the trumpet, slow and mournful...

'In sleep, we walk in both worlds and exist in neither'

Cue the second trumpet, softly echoing the first...

'Some men paint their dreams'

Slow fade out...

'Others, their nightmares'

Screen fades to black and music stops...

'What will you paint in the hours before dawn'

Five second pause...

Switch off...