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August 2013

An Union

He put the percolator on the small fire, then poured three fingers of milk in the saucepan and set it on the fire nearby. If only the kitchen was bigger, a better equipped hob wouldn’t have been a bad thing and some more small fires wouldn’t have been either; perhaps with better equipment he wouldn’t have burned the milk anymore. Truth was, anyway, if he had given up the bad habit of doing other things while cooking and had spent a bit more attention to the fires, then those that were already there would have been enough. He realized his kitchen was looking pretty much like his mother’s. How come …


I’ll meet you right here telling your love through kindness with tea and no words

Calm Zero

The air had become colder and was filled with division. Every thought that clouded over the room was slowly detaching and was starting to shrivel up, to parch and to melt. There was no clear direction. The shout of a male voice from the upper floor passed through the ceiling together with the resentful and slightly scared replies of a woman and the noise of her heels, but it was still possible to listen distinctly to the background silence. Silent sounds have different duration and depth; they’re molten together with the matter that produces them: they were born at the same time but they choose to reveal themselves later, at …