Gaia and Julia went to Mark’s woodworking lab, and persuaded him to follow them to see the thing that was, when it could not be seen, and that was not, when it could be seen.

We cannot bring it in, it’s too big, Gaia said.

Wait on that bench, I’ll be done in a moment, Mark said.

They walked along Calle degli Ulivi, then turned at Calle della Vita and crossed the Mechanical Bridge, the eel-shaped floating bridge that would take them, through the narrow passage between buildings called Calle dei Orbi, to Campo dell’Adunanza.

Julia pulled a notebook out of her purse and made a sketch of an octagon.

This is the place. Adunanza means Gathering. In this place people have gathered to discuss for over fifteen hundred years. When the water level raised, the Freedom Island was submerged like most others, but people still came here on boats to discuss, to ask for and to offer help.

Julia drew arrows through the sides of the octagon as she spoke.

This place was here even when we could not see it.



About Marco

My name is Marco, I am an entrepreneur in the financial industry, a graphic artist and a lover of the urban landscape. You can tweet me @helobiae

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