At night, cities become collections of small illuminated lives.

Someone reheats dinner.
Someone cannot sleep.
Someone practices leaving.
Someone practices staying.

Windowlight is a quiet archive of those moments.

Some stories continue.
Some disappear forever.
Most windows go dark eventually.

The stories here are fragments by design.

You are not seeing entire lives.
Only moments where the light happened to be on.

Buildings change over time.
New windows appear.
Others stay dark for weeks.

Certain apartments return.
Most do not.

Windowlight updates slowly.

That is intentional.