What is it like to be in a space where things are paused, where the past is yet to be revealed and the future is yet to come? While waiting for a Polaroid photo to be developed, what happens to the moment that is supposed to fly away but is captured? In fact, what does it mean for a moment gone to be captured, kept, and re-created? In these questions, I hope for this film's 2 minutes and 32 seconds to reveal its ghostly nature and the moving image to disclose itself as a soft rebellion against time, space, and their linearity.​