The translucence is time travel – seeing from one place in time to another, and into other parts of the world. Walking through a life all at once, to scale. Where he dropped keys, tied shoelaces, picked up his daughter, put a heavy shopping bag down for a moment. Checked the text he just got coming in out of the rain. You can see each hallway, each corridor, each hub, from the other, stretching into his past or present, knowing the future will be different again, yet much the same. These spaces are universal. The things we do in them, recognisable, comforting. The entrance-way, the exit. Two things at once. It's empty, solo, but it's also community. My Scottish friend calls spaces like these 'the close' – it's where you leave extra cupcakes you've baked or your neighbour's post. Where there's no room to sit, only stand. And walk. You're encouraged to keep moving.