The air shimmered with an otherworldly haze as Will Hunter stepped into a dreamscape cityscape that seemed to stretch infinitely in all directions. Here, thresholds, corridors, and edges dominated—a surreal maze of train stations, airport terminals, and hotel lobbies. He was in a liminal zone, a place of transition where people passed through but rarely stayed.
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A voice guided him—an enigmatic narrator, perhaps the embodiment of Marc Augé’s concept of non-places. “Liminal spaces are the in-between,” it said, echoing in the cavernous train station Will now found himself in. “They are the thresholds where transformation begins, yet they lack the identity of home or destination.”
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Will observed his surroundings. Commuters rushed past without noticing him, their movements mechanical. The train station was efficient, its design focused on flow, not interaction. Yet, beneath its surface, the space felt heavy with possibility—a place where people shed one version of themselves and prepared for another.
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As Will stepped into an adjoining corridor, the walls closed in, narrowing his perspective. He thought about how transitional spaces affected the psyche. Long corridors could evoke anxiety or anticipation. Open lobbies, by contrast, could create a sense of disorientation.
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“Transitions are not just physical,” the voice continued. “They are psychological. The spaces we inhabit shape our emotions, our decisions, and our sense of time.”
Will entered an airport lounge, a quintessential non-place. It was sleek, clean, and devoid of character—designed to be interchangeable with airports anywhere in the world. He remembered Augé’s critique: these spaces, while necessary, lacked cultural or emotional resonance, disconnecting people from their surroundings.
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But not all liminal spaces were soulless. Will wandered into a hotel lobby, its design warm and inviting, with nooks for quiet conversation. The architects had understood the potential of such spaces to create intimacy. “Even liminal zones can foster connection if we design them thoughtfully,” Will realized.
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As the dreamscape faded, Will awoke with a deeper appreciation for the in-between. Liminal zones weren’t just spaces of transition—they were opportunities for transformation, waiting to be unlocked by thoughtful design.