Open on a man sitting on a couch in a waiting room. The sign on the door next to him says "Time Reversal." A women in a white coat enters the room, "Mr. humanodon?" She calls. He straightens up at the sound of his name, squeezes the hand of the girl next to him and says, "well, here goes nothing."
Act Two -- a tightening sensation -- the smell of brimstone -- a kaleidoscope, a tunnel -- his head hurts -- Open on a man sitting on a couch in a waiting room. The sign on the door next to him says "Time Reversal." A woman in a white coat enters the room. "Mr. humanodon?" she calls. He straightens up at the sound of his name, fingers the cold, once-worn wedding ring in his shirt pocket and says, "Well, here goes nothing."
Act Three The woman in the white coat leads him to the door. "Step inside" she says casually. He enters the room and the door slams behind him with no prompt. He sees the same room he just left, the same couch, the same light, the same stale coffee... The same girl. He shrugs and takes his seat, occupies his time by rolling the wedding ring between his fingers. A women in a white coat enters the room, "Mr. humanodon?" She calls. He straightens up at the sound of his name, squeezes the hand of the girl next to him and says, "well, here goes nothing."