Written. Spoken. Yours.

4 episodes

12 episodes

Crescent Reef Lighthouse, one hour before sunset on a day that smells of rust and yesterday's rain, with the beam rotating clockwise instead of counter-clockwise for the first time in forty years.

A slow overnight train

A cabin in snowfall

A narrow sleeper car on a regional night train, somewhere in Eastern Europe, 2:47 AM, the smell of old wool blankets and distant diesel fuel mixing with cold window glass

Near-future Asheville, a city adapting to digital mediation in everyday life.

3 episodes

12 episodes

The Marinus Institute's basement archive, Portland harbor, autumn 2087—fluorescent lights humming over rows of neural backup drives, each one warm to the touch.

The sterile confines of the Apex Pitch Center, early February, where the air is tinged with the acrid scent of synthetic coffee and the constant hum of malfunctioning projectors fills the silence.

Inside the dimly lit, cluttered offices of Empathica Inc., one stormy evening in late November, where the hum of malfunctioning servers mixes with the overwhelming scent of burnt coffee.

St. Ignatius prefect office, a wood-paneled room adjacent to the dormitory commons, late evening during a blackout; the scratch of pen on paper audible in the fluorescent hum that continues despite the surveillance shutdown.

St. Ignatius basement server room, late evening during a blackout period, the hum of cooling fans drowning out footsteps in the dark

3 episodes

6 episodes

6 episodes

Reflective and tender, capturing the nuances of love and loss with a poignant and lyrical narrative.

St. Ignatius prefect office, a wood-paneled room adjacent to the dormitory commons, late evening during a blackout; the scratch of pen on paper audible in the fluorescent hum that continues despite the surveillance shutdown.

St. Ignatius basement server room, late evening during a blackout period, the hum of cooling fans drowning out footsteps in the dark

12 episodes

A slow overnight train

The Marinus Institute's basement archive, Portland harbor, autumn 2087—fluorescent lights humming over rows of neural backup drives, each one warm to the touch.

A cabin in snowfall

A narrow sleeper car on a regional night train, somewhere in Eastern Europe, 2:47 AM, the smell of old wool blankets and distant diesel fuel mixing with cold window glass

6 episodes

6 episodes

4 episodes

12 episodes

Crescent Reef Lighthouse, one hour before sunset on a day that smells of rust and yesterday's rain, with the beam rotating clockwise instead of counter-clockwise for the first time in forty years.

Near-future Asheville, a city adapting to digital mediation in everyday life.

3 episodes

3 episodes

The sterile confines of the Apex Pitch Center, early February, where the air is tinged with the acrid scent of synthetic coffee and the constant hum of malfunctioning projectors fills the silence.

Inside the dimly lit, cluttered offices of Empathica Inc., one stormy evening in late November, where the hum of malfunctioning servers mixes with the overwhelming scent of burnt coffee.

Reflective and tender, capturing the nuances of love and loss with a poignant and lyrical narrative.