It’s said that every theater is inhabited by at least one ghost, and contrary to legends propagated by Halloween, these ghosts do not like the dark. Thus, when the curtain falls and a theater’s house empties, an employee will leave a light — a ghost light — to burn onstage until the performers return. Across the world, ghost lights have remained on and untouched for months. But the lives of performers continue offstage, each day adding pressure to find performance spaces on digital platforms.

A camera looks out onto a dimly lit living room. The frame is slightly unlevel, tilted up toward the right. In the bottom corner, a candle flickers; its shadow dances over the comfortable white drapes at the end of the room. Deep piano music starts, and a woman walks into view. She’s dressed simply: just shorts and a tank top. She starts to lunge toward the left, but then the video quickly changes to a different woman. This time, we’re outside, and the new subject continues the lunge from the previous shot.

Hello readers. I hope that you are well, that your hands are washed and that your thoughts remain calm. I’ve had this B-Side in my calendar for over a month. I am so excited that it’s finally here. I remember the day I put it in my calendar. I wrote down when the articles would be due, when they would go to production here in the newsroom and the date they’d be published. Like most things in my calendar, I wrote them with certainty. I envisioned the future through the truth of the present. Most of us do this, and we usually don’t notice it.

On Apr. 29, 2011, Catherine Middleton floated out of a retired Rolls-Royce Phantom VI parked directly in front of the main entrance of London’s Westminster Abbey. The morning wind caught her delicate veil as she rose to stand on the red carpet laid before her. Gracefully, she switched the hand holding her spring bouquet to adjust the flying lace. As she stood poised for her royal entrance, her sister calmly adjusted the dress’s seven-foot train.