The air hums before the audience hears a single note. A faint buzz behind the flats. The warm plasticky smell of dimmers waking up. Cables rest in lazy coils until…
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 steel above you hums quietly, a nervous animal. Cables stretch into the dark, shackles glint, and somewhere high in the grid a tiny fleck of rust catches the light…
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…