[Kitsa]

for the record, I don't know that you could ever touch it. When I went, I remember it being in a small and unimpressive building that looked like a bus shelter. There was one attendant and she wasn't looking. There was something tempting about the surface and I had to touch it, even though I knew I probably shouldn't. I reached out and touched it; it was powdery and I was surprised. Then I snatched my hand back and felt vaguely guilty for the next 27 years or so.