“The Granma ‘Fried Green Tomatoes’ “

Every time I reread it, I return to grandmother’s stairs with the scent of her kitchen, with the voices of my mother and her sisters who argument about how much salt is needed here and how much time the bread should be left on the oven to rise

Through The Mirror

When my grandparents were still healthy, my brother, my parents and I used to drive on the highway at least one weekend a month to visit them. Each time the welcome was what I imagine is reserved to the royals, a banquet with lots of food to feed the army, which however punctually disappeared within a few hours.

Grandma despite being one of those women of other times who does not waste time in kisses and hugs had her very personal way of showing us the infinite love she had for us: preparing pizza in a wood oven.
Lots of pizza.
She served it hot, a moment ago baked, and left us free to play in every part of the house and patio.
I imagine the sadness of those grandchildren who will find tofu and quinoa banquets in the future, considering the new vegan fashion … which I hope will…

View original post 731 altre parole

“Bonjour les &nfants”

I was attracted by the plot: a mix of psychological thriller and romantic romance, and I must say that, unlike the birthplace, the author did not fail my expectations!

Through The Mirror

**https://youtu.be/CAMWdvo71ls?list=PLEuPJYtHKcIEfT0zUr8ceTxnr5by0zDdi

<< A little girl had died in terrible circumstances. Without anyone hearing her, she had walked several flights of stairs, she opened doors, a window…. The omission of control was obvious. >>[1]

When I was a child, I was incredibly fascinated by France, I don’t know why, but I was almost obsessed with it, I often dreamed of going for a walk in the vineyards, to walk through the Champs Elise’s, to paint on the river, and to taste the fine French cheeses.

When I finally flew to Paris at 13, I have to say I was a bit disappointed, maybe the expectations were too high, or I was unlucky, because I met a lot of rude people, I found bad food and very cold and rainy weather despite it being late July.

In any case, with the cheese and wines excluded, the passion and charm…

View original post 585 altre parole

“A Saturday afternoon with Bonita Faye”

I was about 11 years old; I was bored because I had already finished the new horror book in the series, I was crazy about; my father came to me and handed me a “grown-up” novel <read it, you’ll like it >.

If there is a person I trust in everything (especially when it comes to reading) it is my father, so I took this book, and without even asking him what it was about, I sat on the floor with my back against the radiator (habit that I still have today …) and I started it.

Through The Mirror

“After all, I killed only once every forty years. I had time to die, before the urge returned.”[1]

Saturday afternoon in October, uncertain weather, neither hot enough to play outdoors, nor so cold as to want to take refuge inside, that weather that makes you go around dressed like a fool with snow boots and a tank top, so to speak.

I was about 11 years old; I was bored because I had already finished the new horror book in the series, I was crazy about; my father came  to me and handed me a “grown-up” novel << Read this, you’ll like it >>.

If there is a person I trust in everything (especially when it comes to reading) it is my father, so I took this book, and without even asking him what it was about, I sat on the floor with my back against the radiator (habit…

View original post 603 altre parole

“A Melancholy Kite”

The French writer Victor Hugo wrote of melancholy which is "the joy of feeling sad". It could be defined as the desire, at the bottom of the soul, for something that one has never had, but which one agonizingly misses. https://youtu.be/vjQ95fwQsIs “She said, 'I'm so afraid.' And I said, 'why?,' and she said, 'Because I'm …

“A Saturday afternoon with Bonita Faye”

"After all, I killed only once every forty years. I had time to die, before the urge returned."[1] https://youtu.be/IJvI0WNihyM   Saturday afternoon in October, uncertain weather, neither hot enough to play outdoors, nor so cold as to want to take refuge inside, that weather that makes you go around dressed like a fool with snow …

“I mean… JOB”

- What kind of job do you do? - I write ... - No. I mean by profession, in practice, how do you earn money? - Through a careful psychosocial analysis associated with scientific research, I try to study the emotions, languages ​​and behaviours of humans and to bring them back into an imaginary system …