filmica.

Wordless story about a man who awakes in his bed wearing his clothes (including a check vest). He rises, washes his face, combs his hair, and heads for work across the street at a copy shop. He inadvertently makes a photocopy of his hand, and then the machine beings turning out copies of photographs of himself, the street outside, and his apartment. He unplugs the copier and heads home. He repeats the scene we saw earlier. Copies of himself emerge from bed; baffled, he watches them go to work. Soon, it seems, he's part of a society in which everyone looks like him and wears check vest. Can he get things back to normal?