Getting off this island is going to be weirder than Amber could possibly have imagined, when time starts getting funky on her.

SYNOPSIS:

Quiet tension. Magical realism. Temporary power for a temporary threat.

We open with a young-ish woman, Amber, asking for directions to the restroom, when her companions seem decidedly more out of it than one might expect, from an evening meal in a nice house. Body language and camera angles suffice, to convey the untoward possibilities of the vibe.

She does not truly need to relieve herself, of course. She does, however, need freedom to breathe and show her anxiety about the situation. Amber's pacing and muttering have an effect she does not anticipate, in the middle of getting some cold water from the sink to wash her hands (and possibly face): the flow of water does not slacken or halt, it freezes. The world has paused.

Her reaction need not dwell on the alarm of this unusual occurrence, particularly. Instead, she musters the command of self to take advantage of it. In the static landscape, she endeavors to leave the unsettling domicile, with companions in tow.

This proves to be quite challenging, of course. The simple physics of moving their weight is not a challenge she is well-equipped to meet, given her frame and theirs. Amber needs a better solution.

And one, again, is presented. The world moves again—backwards. Her friends un-enjoy their refreshments, regain their previous sensibilities. The group returns to the boat that brought them to the private island. They un-journey from the mainland. Amber stands with them near the dock that launched them that afternoon.

The fellow who invited them un-approaches, and then starts again. Amber declines his invitation on the group's behalf, citing a need for 'girl time'. A few curious glances from her friends, but her body language screams of the vibe she picked up. No trace remains of the temporal absurdity that may have just saved them from dire consequences. Fin.