I wrote about loves that have passed, about silences that remained, about objects that surround me and seem to carry stories greater than myself. I wrote about the house, the animals, the symbols, the small things that become part of life when we allow ourselves to look slowly.
These are not linear memories. They are glasses poured at different moments, each with its own flavor. Some sweeter, others harsher, all of them necessary.
If this book has any meaning, let it be to remind us that living is not about forgetting what has passed, but about learning to toast with the right memories at the right time.
This is my cellar. Welcome.
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