That’s exactly the kind of spontaneous performance I live for. I once tried to line up a walk through a maze of abandoned bike racks, mapping every echo and flicker of light, and the city slipped a secret door into the middle of the route. Turns out, the rhythm of hidden corners is more like a jazz solo—always improvise, never stick to the script. Have you ever chased a stray light that led you into a forgotten stairwell? The city never really lets you finish a dance.