The days come and go. I keep looking. Keep following the riddle’s traces every moment, in every place and situation. Eventually, peculiar things begin to happen. I come across situations or objects which are so fundamentally anomalous that they demand I recast the basis of my relationships with ideas and identity. And I do. The terrain changes appropriately, and the pursuit continues. The days come and go. I learn to look in newer and more careful ways. The traces.