rooms with windows

If you are looking for suspense and its pleasure, then grandmothers undoubtedly have a good reputation when the competition between storytellers ignites. They also have a notable precedent in the brilliance of narration, not only with the tools of imagination, excitement and keeping the recipient on his fingertips, but also with the silences, gasps and suggestive glances they adorn their narration with, the pouring of cups of coffee and the filling of bowls of salty and intoxicating foods. God bless them, how skilled they are in turning stories and renewing them in a way that befits an eager listener!
However, every stage has its dictates, and every individual has his own preoccupations. Perhaps this is what made the texts of this book move within a space different from the soft one spread by grandmothers. They sought to pose pointed questions, but they may be legitimate, and at other times they issued calls, hoping that they would have echoes in the worlds of reading, book publishing, and what supports them.
Most of these texts were written during the pandemic, which imposed a general lockdown on the Earth’s inhabitants. This was a time when questions of existence and destiny flooded our minds, and we rushed to the full papers to engage in dialogue with them and the blank ones to interrogate them.
They are, then, free reflections and articles, from which illuminations and indications emerge, most of which are united by a thin thread, namely the book in its production and reception, or rather, the published material in its various forms and containers, and through the channels that keep multiplying as you try to count them, over and over again.