With gentle reverence their hands skim the textured surface’s long span. Their fingertips trace its grid-worked fissures as if demarking cracks in the continuum of space and time. Each tile shines uniquely, minutely, beautiful; a marvel all the more prominent for its tiny yet vital role as a portion to the breathtaking whole.
From the depths of their two kindred hearts whispers identical, three-fold queries: are they, themselves, mirrored in the mosaic unveiled before them? Can each cherished relation, moving moment, and irreplaceable home be harbored there in alchemic, finite unity, as both autonomous memory and collective necessity?
How do the tiles depict them; by the composite, its components, or another nucleic bond still awaiting discovery?