The first thing the audience feels is the room holding its breath. Not the puzzle. Not the story. The room. The air is cautious. Light gathers in corners but does…
The room is almost black. Just a faint haze of blue along the floor, like night pooling around your ankles. Your audience has surrendered their eyes; they are listening with…
The room hums before anyone enters. Empty chairs breathe quietly. The air carries that hollow echo that only large spaces know, or the close hush that only small rooms can…
The grass is perfect. For about three minutes. Then the first delivery truck sinks slightly into the lawn, leaves a shallow rut, and you can almost hear the groundskeeper inhale…
The stage is empty. Work lights hum overhead, flattening everything into that familiar gray. Tape marks scar the floor where worlds will appear later. For now, it is only potential…
A single champagne glass tips in slow motion. Your set is glowing. Performers move through fog and projected light. Guests are barefoot on your carefully painted floor. Then someone trips…
The room only exists for a week. Tonight, its walls glow with a soft, artificial dusk. The floor hums underfoot like a distant train. Perfume hangs in the air, built…
The room hums before it fills. A faint buzz of anticipation, like static before a storm. The doors are still closed, but bodies already press gently toward them, a soft…
The room hums before anyone speaks. Cutlery rests in perfect formation, a silver forest under candlelight. A blood-red runner slices the length of the table. In the corner, an empty…
The house lights are low, but not out. You stand at the back of the venue, watching the empty seats glow faintly under the work lights. Rows of possibility. Rows…