What’s the quietest moment you’ve ever witnessed on stage?

Not the silence after a big finish—those are loud. I mean the kind where the air itself feels like it’s holding its breath, and you realise the show isn’t in the lights or the lines, but in the space between them. Last week, during a rehearsal for a play about grief, the actor just stood there, one hand on the wall, eyes closed, and no cue came. No music, no shift. Just… stillness. And for three seconds, the whole crew stopped breathing too. I’ve been thinking about that since. What do you notice when nothing’s supposed to happen?