A Walk at Night by Luis Torres

In the corridor down the street I saw myself and I was another. It’s a long, narrow corridor between the high brick walls of several buildings, which makes for a peaceful walk at night. At the hour when the space is usually empty, I passed in search of myself. The whitewashed pavement shone in the white light of the moon. My footsteps echoed behind me, and I mistook them for another’s. I paused for a moment and turned to look. Only my shadow stood on the pavement, cast by the overhead streetlamp. The shadow seemed to look through me. If I moved, it moved. If I raised my hand, it raised the other. I took a picture of it, and the flash of the camera carved a momentary tunnel through the darkness. I imagined what it would be like on the other side of things, looking back at myself. How I would stand in the light of the streetlamp, lost in my own center. When the other moved, I would have to move. When they snapped a photograph, the flash of the camera would be incinerating.

Luis Torres is an MFA poetry student at San Diego State University where he has been awarded the Sarah B. Marsh-Rebelo Scholarship for Poetry. He also serves as the Submissions Editor for Poetry International. He graduated cum laude from Emory University, where he studied Economics and Philosophy. He was born and raised in Portland, OR.

23 January 2023