by Ren Vrabel
When the sky turns to ash and memory becomes the only refuge, one man wakes to find himself stranded between two worlds - one that burned, and one that left him behind.
Haunted by a voice that may be his own, John wanders through forests of ruin and dreams of lavender fields that might never have existed. Somewhere above the clouds, a rescue ship waits - silent, empty, patient. Below, a dog follows his fading footsteps through the dust.
As timelines fold and choices blur, Almost There becomes a story about what remains when everything else is gone: the weight of survival, the echo of love, and the quiet pull of home.
A haunting meditation on identity, memory, and the thin line between hope and surrender - written with cinematic stillness and the pulse of a fading heartbeat.