INT. LIBRARY - EVENING

'The Librarian' is written out onto a page of a book as if by an invisible hand.

At the top of an old wooden ladder that is leaning against a dusty bookshelf THE LIBRARIAN is placing books carefully back onto the shelves. The third book he tries to place onto the shelf is just slightly too far away and he has to shift his weight on the ladder to lean closer towards it. His arm shakes with the effort, and the book slips out of his fingers grasp and falls to the floor with a THUD. He looks down to the faraway floor and then slowly decides to climb down the ladder to retrieve it.

FOOTSTEPS are heard as he steps down the ladder nearing the bottom. The focus is on the book that has fallen to the floor and the Librarians shadow slowly crawls across the surface of this.

Cut to a close up of the librarians legs walking across the screen with an old man’s gait. The book is dragged behind him with the awkwardness of an old man struggling.

He is sat in his great arm chair, shuffling to get comfy, considering the book in his hands.

Eventually he starts to read the book, turning the pages thoughtfully and carefully.

His eyelids grow heavy, drooping down and springing back up again before finally staying firmly stuck down.

His muscles relax with sleep and his hand releases the book he was reading to the floor.

(Long shot) He is comfortably asleep in his armchair amidst a great library.

The pages of the book turn by themselves before stopping on a blank page where “I am what your dreams are made of” is written onto the page as if by an invisible hand. Once finished the pages start to turn again and once stopped a tree grows out of the middle of the book made out of pages.

A great WIND blows the tree causing some ‘Z’ shaped leaves to break off and drift away.

The leaves BUZZ around the Librarians head causing him to stir in his sleep and brush them away. The Z’s continue to drift until the Librarian awakes from him sleep, opening his eyes suddenly and at this point they disappear as if they were never there.

The book appears normal making no movement; it is as if nothing has happened.

 The Librarian is leaning over the side of his great armchair trying to locate the disturbance he believes he has just heard. Finding nothing, he turns back around, shrugs and then falls back into a deep sleep.

The book twitches mischievously.

CREDITS.

I've started to write out the script for the story - here's where I have got to so far:

INT. LIBRARY - EVENING

At the top of an old wooden ladder that is leaning against a dusty bookshelf THE LIBRARIAN is selecting books from off of the shelf, studying them briefly and then dropping them to the floor for him to collect later. The THUD of the book hitting the floor does not faze him and with boredom he carries on with his chore of selecting books from the shelf. He does this three times in total.

Cut to a close up of the librarians’ legs walking slowly across the screen whilst idly dragging an unfortunate open book by the corner of its cover across the floor, its pages falling helplessly with gravity as it is pulled along.

Cut to the librarian sat at a gnarled desk in an old high backed arm chair. He is reviewing the books he has selected off of the shelf in a careless fashion. (Sigh) Impatiently he starts to throw the books over his shoulder as if he can find no joy whatsoever in their pages. He holds his head miserably in his hands.

He shuffles in his chair, eyes glassed over, bored with his task and no longer caring, gazing off into the distance. He soon falls asleep, arm dropping down the side of a chair still loosely holding the book he was clutching.

The book comes to life…