You’ve seen them at dusk, walking along the shore, seen them 
standing in doorways, leaning from windows, or straddling the 
slow-moving edge of a shadow. Lovers of the in-between, they 
are neither here nor there, neither in nor out. Poor souls, they are 
driven to experience the impossible. Even at night, they lie in bed 
with one eye closed and the other open, hoping to catch the last 
second of consciousness and the first of sleep, to inhabit that no-
man’s-land, that beautiful place, to behold as only a god might, the 
luminous conjunction of nothing and all.