On a bright spring day, a group of young academicians gathered at the banks of the river to challenge each other’s skills and provide a spectacle to whomever had the patience and the interest to stand by and watch. The day before, it was the naturalists who were testing themselves. But on that day, the architects had gathered, and their challenge was to build a tower of stones and pebbles, gathered from the banks or within the river itself, for it flowed softly where they had chosen to hold their contest.
The grass is purple in that valley. And the sky is green. That’s how you will know that you have reached the entrance to the vault.
I never really expected those words from an ancient myth to guide me on this failed expedition. And it was failed because even if I found the vault, even if I managed to enter it and lay my eyes on what lay within, I would never find my way out again.Continue reading
I brought a friend with me. I wasn’t going into the abandoned factory alone.
Back in the day, people called it the “organ factory.” The irony is that we have actual organ factories now. Fabrication technology has spread farther than preservation technology ever did. But there was a time when all we had was organ preservation. A time when anyone who could extend the life of a donated organ by even just a bit could save lives that would otherwise have been lost.Continue reading