I took my bike out for a trail ride, decided to stop at home for a quick refill of water before going out again. I was in my house for under 3 minutes and my bike was stolen from my enclosed front porch.
Reported it with serial number to the police and a stolen bike website but never heard anything back.
I was in college and had to start leaving for classes 20 minutes earlier. I was pretty angry at the time. Now l’ll never leave a bike out of my sight unless it’s locked indoors or with two U-locks.
An interpretation of that definition still works with context; these empty places feel like a metaphysical waiting room or purgatory, a space between this life and the next, between this dimension and the next, etc., depending on what spirituality, philosophy, or fantasy is convenient