Nights That Don't Need Plans

Some nights have nowhere to be. Lights down low, a film glowing on the screen, a big bowl of popcorn balanced on your lap, the dog curled somewhere near your feet. I let the only light come from the movie and a soft lamp, and just watched the story cross his face—the laugh he tries to hide, the sudden wide-eyed look, a hand diving back into the bowl without looking. Nothing happens, and that's the whole point: the small, warm ritual of a night spent exactly where you live.