There are corners of my soul yet to be touched by the light streaming through my eyes. Corners beyond the reach of the blind grasping hands of my heart. There are so many corners, of these I have lost count of. The secrets they hold keep me searching, like someone who has spent the summer of her youth searching for the fabled red ‘X’ to no avail. Even an empty, decrepit box, with its gloriously distinct four corners, is preferable to guessing at its treasures.