When I went to Lampedusa, I had just moved house. As I am finally settling into my new life, I realise it’s been like skateboarding on a vertical wall every day for one entire year. Now, things look suddenly full, happy – scared as I am to say it aloud. Along with things I treasured… Continue reading
I think I forgot to post the series of stories I did on assignment for reported.ly in Lampedusa on the migrant crisis, this past July. It was a rough, amazing experience, chasing ghosts and catching souls by the tail. I hope it may help shed a little light on what the tiny island is about,… Continue reading
I look at the unknown sky of the new year. It is so blue it seems almost impossible that anything bad ever happened. All of my mornings used to start the same way. Blackbirds would line up on the trellis of the roof garden opposite my window. The Beast sat there close to me and stared outside, a daily, intense standoff with the blackbirds. And he made that chirping sound with his throat, both curiosity and hunt, a salute to the morning. Yesterday I took a walk in the park adorned with their beautiful presence, and I suddenly realised that no blackbird has ever showed up again on the roof since he died two months ago. Not one, not once.