My dear Ina,
How are you? Here’s a written letter, so herstorical! Have you ever held one before? Ask mom if you need help reading.
Here at the Moonaster, I’m surrounded by such things: letters, books and even bots that you have to read from. Makes my brains boil. Moonbots are not allowed here, nor is any other telepathic technology, not until we go on the pilgrimage. At first I wanted to send you a voicemail, but isn’t it more fun to pretend it’s, like, the middle ages and we have to write to communicate? I’m inspired by all the strange things I read here. I need to find a way to still have fun. It is so silent here. It made me realize how teletech keeps us from ever being alone, for better or worse.
Don’t get me wrong, I think our bots are…everything. I do miss my Lalita so much. But there are thoughts I would have never had if she had been here with me. Things I would not have learned. Or cared to learn.
At least the food here is glorious, and the doorways are grand, and in the mornings, we sing in a huge room, and the reverb of all our voices makes my body tingle, and my head feels light and ecstatic, like a crystal bell ringing from a cascade of pearls. It’s really something.
Reverb is when sound is thrown against a wall and bounces back into your ear, layering beautifully. Like in that cave, remember? The one we swam to last summer. Or when you scream at a cliff.
Please give my love to mom, and keep some for yourself.
Extrait de NARIA’S NOTEBOOK: MOONASTER FRAGMENTS, par Giulia Essyad