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I remember as it was today. The last time I had seen João was 6 years ago. We had followed different ways

We decided to meet and talk to update on our lives. There was a Bar that had open recently in the city. It was there the meeting point. At 22:00,we meet each other as arranged. We seated and asked for a drink, the same for both. The waitress seamed familiar. At first I was reticent on say anything but wend she brought the order, I couldn’t avoid it. Yes, we know each other, in fact “Rita, how good is to see you again” – I’ve exclaimed. I didn’t saw her since his fathers left town. After 15 years she had returned to the origins. Without many people in the bar, Rita had the opportunity to join us in the reencounter. We’ve toast “To memory’s! they’re precious” – “To memory’s” – They repeated.

There goes now 13 years and I still remember the sound of the toast and their smiles. Yes…I still remember! Life it’s made of fragments, parts of memory’s. Each face, a history, a memory. And that’s how our path it’s build, with memory’s that fulfil of histories.

The glass its formed by a base, made in cuted metal sheet, welded and painted in different colours. Superior part made in glass. It’s aspect fragmented illustrate the realm of memories, of different formats and importance. Spaces completed and others for complete. A glass sphere, a life that join’s all that memories.
"To memory’s! they’re precious” – “To memory’s” – They repeated. "
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