photo: public domain
A black-and-white man stands with his hands behind his ears. His thumbs are placed behind his earlobes, and his fingers are splayed open like collecting horns receiving an invisible broadcast. His mouth moves as he speaks, but only the sound of a projector clacking can be heard.
The man folds his hands one over the other in front of him, and they hang down as loosely as the emotion he wears on his brow. Except for his lips he is still. His lips are still moving when he bends forward at the waist and cups his knees with his open palms. His back is flat enough to set a table upon. Rising from this position, it is clear even to a novice lip-reader that his lips are making m sounds.
He goes down slowly onto his knees and, arching his back, places his palms on the small gray carpet. He points the tip of his head toward the floor and touches it also to the carpet. An illuminated fiber appears on the screen, and the friction of the moving film eventually dislodges it. He sits back on his heels for a moment, his hands light on his lap, then points and places his hands and his head on the carpet one more time. Rising from this position, his lips make more m sounds. His face appears highly satisfied. The loose end of the filmstrip slaps the rolling of the reel, and the screen becomes jarringly white.