Beyond the Glass

The sliding glass door was cracked open just wide enough for my boots to slip through. One quick squeeze, and boom—cool night air hit my face. No carpets, no spotlights, just wide open dark. I scrambled onto the rim of a heavy terracotta planter to get some height. Down below, the streetlights stretch out in a bright, buzzing line, sweeping amber beams across the sidewalk. I picked up a brittle, curled brown leaf that blew across the deck and snapped it clean in two. Crisp sound. Out here, the stage has no ceiling, and there is an entire city waiting out there.