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 50 Close Knit Meet the weavers keeping traditional Egyptian tapestrymaking alive. Arts & Culture Issue 50 The Old Gays Inside a Californian TikTok “content house” of a very different stripe. Arts & Culture Issue 50 New Roots The Palestinian art and agriculture collective sowing seeds of community. Arts & Culture Issue 50 Angela Trimbur An all-out tour de force.