Four corners, directions leading out from a frame around your picture. Remembering us standing in that cold art shop, dim lights flickering above. Nearly forgot where we were going and still haven't figured out why we stopped there. That little shop, incense and quiet air. Hearing our footsteps on wooden planks that were mismatched but still felt strong. The hollow space beneath it reverberated like thunder and drums. A January breeze that felt like hand ushered us through the doorway. If it wasn't held open I know it...