Little memories continuously sprout up about this civilization. At first I see no connection . . . and then days or even years later . . . I will find a link and go: "how odd. this memory connects with that other memory. They fit like a glove. How strange that I thought of those two separate things and never imagined they could be so related." Well I'll try to connect the dots as we go.
From here, the path splits—three branches of remembering: What we built, what we were, and how we lived together. Follow whichever you like. Each will unfold new forms.
