Dear Molly, it took me two months to read your book but that is because I wanted to savour every word. I love your work so much I was afraid you might fall. Instead, you fly. Thank you for the timeless tale of what it means to be young and the unique journey of what… Continue reading
The man from Nice pushes a cart of flowers and dried leaves on the streets of Spotorno. Wherever he stops, people come out of shops and restaurants and houses with little exclamations of joy, crowding around the cart. The man from Nice explains in Italian with a French accent where the herbs and the blooms… Continue reading
Ho scritto una cosa sulla crisi dei rifugiati in Europa, partendo dalla foto del piccolo Aylan che non avrei voluto vedere.
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