There was a chair floating. An ordinary wooden chair. No wings or ropes, no tricks. A chair, somewhere between air and logic, above a zebra crossing. And yet I kept walking. What should I have done? Stop? Throw my head back, point, shout, alert people? Take pictures, like, post, hashtag? No. I chose something else: denial. An act in itself. Elegant in its simplicity. Celebrated in its absence.