THERE ARE LINES you don’t cross. That’s what we all believe, what we tell ourselves to make sense of this world and its chaos, a psychological life raft we self-inflate. One thing is okay and another is not, the lines sharp as razor cuts, impossible to ignore. We like it this way. Solid. In or out. Good or bad. Right or wrong. But the circumstances, they interfere. They smudge the lines, or erase bits completely, making everything hard to see. And then we find, all of us wandering in this world and its chaos, how easy it is to get lost.