When Charles Dickens killed off a character he loved, he would walk the streets until dawn as a form of catharsis. In nearly all major cities, the metro system closes during the darkest hours of the night. Though that time is oft en used for cleaning and repairs, this shutting down may be an unconscious nod to the night’s unique rhythms—as if the tracks themselves might change in the midnight hours, the day’s trains not designed to traverse them. Of course, there are taxis and night buses, but when traveling in the dark, walking should be our preferred mode of transportation. Nightwalking—choosing to perambulate after businesses have shut down and most people are asleep—is rebellious. It serves few, if any, obvious purposes, and that deliberate purposelessness is precisely what makes it seem unacceptable. In a world dominated by crisp images, products designed for ultra-specific uses, overscheduling, and statistical analyses that compartmentalize the world into increasingly defined categories, the out-of-focus night is swaddled by darkness and infused with aimlessness. This story is from Kinfolk Issue Twenty-Eight Buy Now Related Stories Arts & Culture Issue 30 At Work With: Adrien Gloaguen Meet the Parisian hotelier who spends sleepless nights ensuring that his guests have the opposite. Arts & Culture Issue 27 Dead of Night Fey and fearful: the superstitions of the witching hour. Arts & Culture Issue 47 Alice Sheppard On dance as a channel to commune with the body—even when it hurts. Arts & Culture Issue 47 Dr. Woo Meet the tattoo artist who's inked LA. Arts & Culture Issue 47 Walt Odets The author and clinical psychologist on why self-acceptance is the key to a gay man's well-being. Arts & Culture Fashion Issue 47 A Picture of Health Xiaopeng Yuan photographs the world’s weirdest wellness cures.