In my corner of Purgatory the caring angels wear the white of trust, the caring angels the green of hope in the fight against the archenemy. However, red now escapes the ancient symbolic codes and instead of charity proclaims danger. Red are the bags arrived home, sent by Alia for my husband’s little waste. He will throw away the conspicuous vegetable debris of the epic cleaning of artichokes in which he tried his hand yesterday, tutored and remote controlled. It’s crazy to start a culinary career with artichokes that have never been attempted: how to get someone who shows up for his first driving school lesson on a Ferrari … I think of how many marks in the history of cities have made houses and doors talk: lamb, crosses, stars, bars. Salvation, plague, warning. Now the red bags, spies of the new contagion: will they be taken away with discretion? At sunset? From monatti? It is doubtful, but we are curious.
April 18, 2021 | 10:26
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