Liminal Spaces To Get Lost In

The escalators stopped at 9:58 on a Monday. The cosmetics counter is still lit. Tuesday hasn't decided anything yet.

The building emptied at 7:47 on a Monday. The lobby still doesn't know what to do with itself.

The tournament ended at 9:14 on a Saturday. Thirty-seven folding chairs. Nobody stacked them.

The lobby closed at 6:03 on a Friday. The money didn't.

The gym doesn't belong to anyone between games. Wide. White. Waiting for the next thing it's allowed to be.

Movie theater lobby after the last screening — empty lobby, dead concession stand, corridor to the dark.

The last customer left at 3:58 on a Tuesday. / The pie is still on the table.

The last train left at 12:47 on a Wednesday. / The platform sign is still counting down.

The last book was returned at 6:49 on a Thursday. / The fine is still accruing.

The last class ended at 3:14 on a Friday. / The eraser is still on the chalk tray.

The last badge was handed out at 6:12. / The lanyard is still on the table.

Someone started a load at 11:47 on Tuesday and never came back. The dryer ran itself dry three hours ago. It's still warm.