PHONE BOOTH IN ANTARCTICA Open with a scene of snow-covered hills With absolutely no signs of life And only enough gently moaning wind To let us know we have sound And to call attention to the silence. Then Behind the title we see a map of Antarctica. All through the opening credits the camera zooms slowly in To the place on the White Continent Closest to no place While all we hear Is the gently moaning wind: The only thing ever to be at home here. Dissolve to A view of a broad snowy valley: Not a tree, Not a bush, Not a footprint Has rumpled that white blanket. Although the day is gloomy We can see Off in the distance A small building. The camera moves slowly in Until we can make it out To be a phone booth. We see inside the booth Close-ups of details Like a light dusting of snow In the corners, On the shelf, And on the phone. It is obvious that No one ever comes here Except now and then the wind To flip through the directory. There are directions for long-distance only Since from here there is no such thing As local. Inspection finished, the camera pulls away. It leaves no footprints. We pause a few hundred feet off. The day looks a little gloomier And all we hear Is gently moaning wind. Then, Faint in the distance, We hear the phone ring... And ring... And ring... And ring... And ring... And ring... And ring... And ring... And ring... And ring... And ring... And ring... And ring... And not ring again. Thomas G. Digby Entered 2245hr 3/06/84 Format 13:38 12/22/2001