For twenty-two years Ravi has never missed a day of work. One morning he oversleeps, and his shadow goes without him — and does his whole job by lunch. Then it takes him to the sea.
Takes ten seconds. Your stars and comments shape the next storyboards.
11 keyframes. 2 ghost frames — the one-change-per-edit steps between them — are hidden; switch them on at the bottom left.

Eleven at night. Ravi's shadow sleeps on the wall above him, exactly as he does.



Seven o'clock. Morning. Ravi sleeps on. The wall above him is bare.

Eight-fifteen. His shadow waits at the bus stop, reading the paper.

At the office, the shadow sits at Ravi's desk and types.

Quarter past nine. Ravi is out of bed, pointing at the empty place on the wall where his shadow sleeps.

Ravi runs through town, late for the first time in twenty-two years.

He bursts into the office. His shadow is at his desk, and the pile is stamped DONE.

The shadow reaches back for his hand.

Hand in hand, they walk out of town toward the sea.

At the sea, they sit side by side and watch the sun go down.

Next morning at seven, Ravi leaves for work on time. His shadow is home, asleep on the wall. He lets it sleep in.










