Yesterday, Kendra was just like everyone else. The two small, delicate bulges in her face, from where tears are born, carried no other purpose save a distant bio‐history and some rumored potential. The world was a place of darkness, of dreams sometimes so vivid with smell and taste and sound they seemed alive, of sensory projections based on the touch of her fingers along others’ faces and clothes and surfaces. Yesterday, all she had was touch, just like everyone else in the Home, like everyone she’d ever known. But today… Today was something different, unbelievable, unfounded, a myth. Today, Kendra found purpose, both old and new, from the bulges in her head, for she began to cry without reason as she began also to far‐touch.