Excerpts From Moments
Liquid Memory

It was late in the evening. We sat at an outdoor terrace in the heart of the city. People walked by in the hot moonless night. You pulled out a chess game. You set up the pieces and we started to play in the sweltering heat. I moved my white pawn. “Queen opening” you remarked. “Yes, I like to give her space.” I answered. We shifted the pieces around in tight geometric patterns like a dance on the chessboard. We glanced at each other now and again lifting our eyes off the board but for a minute. I moved my queen further afield, past your tower and your knight, looking for a way forward on a white diagonal line.  

Architectural rendition Gabriele Tomasulo
Moments as Liquid Library

Mid-July. My aunt had cooked up a large quantity of fresh vegetables marinated in fragrant herbs, which she brought to our dinner table, set under a welcoming apple tree. We had a splendid view of a set of hills visible towards the horizon with their lush green color and undulating rhythms. The crickets began their song and we discussed the local town’s latest news. As we got to dessert, the sky turned indigo blue and my uncle pointed to Cassiopeia, one of the starry constellations that slowly was drawing itself onto the sky. “You can recognized it by its W shape,” he told us. “And close by, you have Mars, with its reddish aura” he added. We now all looked up and couldn’t tire of peering at those lights traveling through the night.  

Excerpts from
Moments Liquid Memory