Here is a story.

 

Length: 3:55

 

The sounds: a single sustained note of an old pipe organ, with persistent heartbeat-like ticking in the background—tick tick, tick tick—incessantly. White text appears in a purple box on a black background:

 

HERE IS A STORY

 

And then:

 

I WAS 18.

 

Then white print on the same black background appears: “There’s something wrong with me. Filth and evil and God hates me.” While we read these lines, a deep, dark voice whispers in the background: “And if thy hand offend thee, cut it off. It is better for thee to enter into life maimed then having two hands to go into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched.”

 

A new screen appears with the following white print on the same black background: “It is better to die than to be this thing. I remember thinking: I will lose everything . . . my family, my friends, my church.” The organ note and heartbeat persist.

 

A white-painted wooden church with a bell tower appears. It is Jackie’s childhood church in Montana. The deep whispering voice returns, now telling us: “And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out. It is better for thee to enter into the Kingdom of God with one eye, than having two eyes to be cast into hellfire.”

 

And a new black screen now offers more white text: “The church was my refuge. Twice a week, Tuesday nights and Sunday mornings, I was right with the world, valued, not hit, not dirty, not broken,” while the whispering continues: “And if thy hand offend thee, cut it off. It is better for thee to enter into life maimed than having two hands to go into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched.” The organ note and heartbeat-like ticking continue.

 

Now a new black screen with more white text: “The church loved me. My youth group leaders were also my choir and band teachers, and they taught me to sing.” The dark whisper continues: “And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out. It is better for thee to enter into the Kingdom of God with one eye, than having two eyes to be cast into hellfire.”

 

Before the whispering stops, we see a new black screen with larger white print: “The window was open.” Fading into new text: “I could smell the rain.” The text fades quickly into consecutive chunks: “I was 18 . . . and . . . I was in love . . . and . . . I was trying to be a good (strict) Christian . . . and . . . I was in a small Montana town . . . and thus . . . I was 18 . . . and . . . I was in love . . . and . . . I was wrong. I was wrong. I was wrong.” Throughout, the whisper continues over the organ note and heartbeat ticking: “And if thy hand offend thee, cut it off. It is better for thee to enter into life maimed then having two hands to go into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched. And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out. It is better for thee to enter into the Kingdom of God with one eye, than having two eyes to be cast into hellfire.”

 

As the organ note and ticking continue, a black screen appears with purple text on it: “The rhizome breaks/ruptures, builds along similar/different lines.” Then a new black screen with white print: “That rupture was one brought by longing, or the awareness of that longing. A queer longing.” With this same screen, the whisper says something new: “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word . . . ”

 

Before the whispering is done, a new screen with white text appears: “For me, a handful of pills—whatever I could find in my dorm room—a couple of beers and a death longing later.” The organ note and ticking continue. Then the single word and followed by new text: “For me, a stomach pump and a stay at student health services,” followed by another single and and then the final text: “A longing, as a nurse held me wrapped in a gray blanket, for home.” The organ note and ticking continue as the screen fades to black for a solid half-minute.