"Haven't checked emails for weeks, will make it brief. Just to let you know, from the Thar Desert I'm jumping in Paul Salopek's epic walk. We've just arrived at Kalibangan, a less known site of Harappan culture. For days we tramped on debris of potsherds, bones and broken bricks. Paul still gets contemplative whenever he makes such encounters. After travelling on foot for more than six years, he turns much tanner and has worn out three pairs of shoes. But this is only 6,000 miles, less than a third of his 'across the world' journey. By the way I totally support the idea of the Photo Museum. How awesome can that be to know your friend won a lottery and would give it all to the great course of doing something for humanity. There's a lot on my mind that we can do, but I'm leaving that to my next email ... hugs from the land of 1.3 billions. Hill. Sent from my iPhone".
"Come quickly, an email from Hilly!" Mr. Bento signals his wife who just enters the room, to come over to the computer and share the email.
"Is she still in India?" asks Mrs. Bento, sitting down beside Mr. Bento, still holding the disc she took from the third floor library.
"I guess so. I'll shoot back an email later so we'll know. What's that in your hand?"
"I found something from the library you might be interested in. It's a cd about photography." She takes a look at the cd, "actually it's a conversation, yes, a conversion of, ahmm, some photographs in the bedroom."
"Let's see." Mr. Bento takes the cd and look at the insert "A conversation of Five photographs in our bedroom: The Rose, The Kiss, The Blue Banjo, The Apple, Two Women. Have you played it yet? Do you know whose recording it is?"
"Don't know. It's from the third floor library, and you know what, I also notice there are many photo books. Maybe you should come up with me and take a look yourself."
"I don't think it's a good idea. Violet has entrusted the library to you, and you should guard it with respect. Though, I must admit I'm very curious to know what this conversation is about - if it is really about photography. I think you should put it back in its place."
All of a sudden Mrs. Bento senses a warm blush rises to her cheeks. She feels like a child being caught in the act of stealing candies. She thinks about reading the diaries of MM, enjoying every moment she spent in a room full of memories and emotion - all these things she no longer brings up and shares with Mr. Bento. For a split second the door bell rings:
Ding-Dong.
