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A man lies asleep on a bed. A gust of wind. A rumbling. He walks around, taking photographs. Messages from both his dreams, and mine, where we are haunted by people in student uniform.
The catastrophic chaos of final-year film students desperately trying to finish their thesis project, only for the editor to lose the entire freaking file.
Tomorrow, a man will direct his first feature film, but, that night, something happens.
A short story in three parts—verbally contemplating on the death of an insignificant person—riddled with self loathing of both the living, and the dead. For death is a bitter tasting joke with no set-up; only a shocking punchline leaving those who remain with the unbearable weight of grief and longing.
A college student's abrupt awakening in the dead of night leads him to a mysterious corridor, causing a sudden nosebleed and an encounter with a shadowy figure silently watching him. But this wasn’t the first time it had happened.
On a quiet night in the library, a young librarian prepares to head home alone, until something lurking in the shadows begins to creep closer.