Wandee Bunchan

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.

Fragments of a contemplative essay film drifting between memory and dream. I see an old man haunted by an elusive voice, and a fading childhood quietly watching over him, in a space where prolonged sleep blurs the boundary of what is real. This is a story written from elsewhere a place where I listen, observe, and record his story, in an attempt to weave together images of family, and the quiet violence of growing up.

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.