Hey, have you ever heard the story about the city’s midnight street that moves on its own, where your reflection starts walking ahead of you? It’s a neat way to think about how our identity slips between the material world and whatever else might be lurking in the shadows.

Sure thing, but I’ve already chased that street’s shadows. One night, they didn’t just react—they tried to draft a dramatic monologue about my life. It felt like a séance of the living, and I was the reluctant prop.