At 28mm and f/1.4, you’re letting in as much light and context as the lens allows. It’s the night photographer’s compromise – wide enough to capture the scene, fast enough to freeze it without a tripod.
The diner sat on a corner I’d walked past a hundred times in daylight without noticing. At midnight, it transformed. The neon turned wet pavement into a canvas of reflected color – reds bleeding into blues, fractured by the ripples of passing taxis.
Inside, the counter held four people who clearly didn’t know each other but shared the unspoken bond of the late-night meal. Steam rose from bowls and mugs, catching the overhead fluorescent in a way that softened everything.
There are places that only exist at certain hours. The midnight diner is one of them – not the physical space, but the version of it that appears when the rest of the city goes quiet.
I shot through the window, letting the glass add its own layer of imperfection to the image. The slight reflection of the street overlaid onto the interior created a double exposure that no amount of post-processing could replicate. 1/60th of a second. Just enough to hold it all together.