The chair is still warm from the last rehearsal. A coffee cup sits on the prop table, half full, its ring burned into the wood like a tiny eclipse. The…
The floor gives a quiet crack when you cross the room, the wall has a thin shadow of a line running from door frame to ceiling, and that one window…
The smell hits first. That cool, slightly earthy air that every basement has, mixed with old paint and maybe a hint of sawdust from the last time you tried to…
The brass doorplate is cold under your fingertips. A thin line of light leaks around the frame, pulsing faintly, almost like breathing. Somewhere inside the wall, a relay clicks, a…
The conference room smells faintly of old coffee and fresh photocopies. Fluorescent tubes hum overhead, flattening color, turning everyone a little gray. Between you and the venue rep: a polished…
The room is not full yet, but it already feels alive. Glassware catches the uplighting like tiny prisms. A silent auction table glows in a pool of amber light. On…
The chairs are still empty. The lights are half on, that strange gray hour when a space feels like it is holding its breath. Tape lines on the floor, half-built…
The house lights are still up, but phones are already glowing. Little rectangles of light hover above the seats like fireflies that refuse to wait for darkness. Someone scrolls through…
A single green work light hangs over the empty stage, making the dust in the air look like slow-motion snow. Spike tape scars the floor in neon lines. The set…
The bass line rises first, a low vibration in the floorboards. A wash of color swells across the set, catching on sequins, bare wood, chipped paint. Someone speaks the first…