Walls Are for Leaning

Some evenings don’t want to be walked through. They ask only for a wall, one heel resting against the paint, and no particular place to be. This photograph was taken in that exact kind of hour — the one that never makes it into anyone’s calendar.

The wall did what walls do best: it held still. The heels did what heels do best: they refused to. Between the two of us, we reached an understanding that lasted exactly as long as the light did.

I keep this frame as proof that doing nothing, properly dressed, is still an event.