Transitory Spaces
The Spaces Between the Scenes
Every urban story is stitched together by transitions: the subway ride, the walk through an alley, the wait at a bus stop. How often have you heard “How do you get there?”. The logistics may matter less than the possibilities of the drama these transitions might introduce. These are the liminal zones–thresholds where the mundane and the mythic collide. The crowd can hide a fugitive. The empty concourse can whisper with shadows. The ride-share driver might not be who they seem.
This lists a set of transit and passage locations, each sketched with shifting moods, story tags, and hooks, so that instead of dead time, you get tension, texture, and story fuel.Everyone knows what a bus stop or parking garage looks like. What matters is how they feel in the moment, how they tilt the story. Use these spaces when you’d otherwise fast-forward. Let the “how do you get there?” become a scene in its own right.
- Elevator – vertical transit, moments of enforced pause.
- Taxi / Uber – confined moving box, intimate yet vulnerable.
- Bus Stop – liminal waiting space, exposed yet overlooked.
- Subway Platform & Subway Tunnel – cramped, grimy, the underground underworld.
- Back Alley – the connective tissue of the city, where shadows gather.
- Bridge-Overpass – a chokepoint, suspended between destinations.
- Highway Rest Stop – transitory, anonymous, filled with strangers in passing.
- Parking Garage – layered concrete hive, shadowy, impersonal.
- Train Station – classic commuter hub, full of crowds or deserted echoes.
- Ferry Terminal – the city’s edge, where water meets steel.
- Airport Lounge – thresholds of global movement and surveillance.
- Border Crossing – ultimate liminal gate, rules and power laid bare.
Third Spaces
Cities used to breathe differently. Between home and work, between duty and exhaustion, there were places where people simply were. You could drop in without purpose, linger without shame, and belong without cost. These were the third spaces: the gym, the park, the corner bar, the community hall. In the places, gossip replaced news, strangers became regulars, and isolation cracked just enough for laughter or argument to spill through.
But rents rise and time shrinks. The third spaces erode under the pressure of convenience and profit. The coffee shop becomes a co-working site. The rec center closes “for renovation.” Even the pub fills with faces lit up by phone screens instead of one another.
Yet these fading spaces still matter. This is where stories collide, alliances form, and unexpected interaction is justified. There's a reason for the old D&D trope “You all meet in a bar!” This collection explores those communal sanctuaries and their ghosts: twelve locations caught between nostalgia and necessity. Some still thrive. Some hang by a thread. All are fragile crucibles of identity, myth, and belonging.
