2022-07-02 04.43.22.mov May 2026

Outside, the sun was just beginning to touch the horizon. It was 04:43 AM. He didn't need to record it this time; he just needed to be there.

At , Elias’s own reflection appears briefly in the driver’s side window as he pans the camera. He looks younger then, though it was only four years ago. His eyes aren't tired yet. 2022-07-02 04.43.22.mov

He remembered the air that morning—it was thick, smelling of pine needles and the coming rain of the Pacific Northwest. He had been driving for six hours, escaping a life that had become too loud, when he saw the fog rolling over the crest of the Cascades. Outside, the sun was just beginning to touch the horizon

He had pulled over at a scenic overlook, the kind that looks like the edge of the world when the sun hasn't quite decided to show up. He didn't know why he reached for his phone. He wasn't a "video person." But the silence was so heavy he felt like he needed to prove it existed. He hit play. At , Elias’s own reflection appears briefly in

"Where are you going?" Elias’s voice whispers on the recording. It’s the only time he speaks. The video ends abruptly at twenty-two seconds.

Does this fit the vibe you were looking for, or should we try a different genre like mystery or sci-fi ?

Sitting in the motel room now, Elias realized that the person who filmed that video doesn't exist anymore. The 2022 version of himself was still full of questions. The current version was finally starting to find the answers. He didn't delete the file. He locked the phone and looked out the window.