James Lawless

An Entertaining Tragedy Suburbs of Milan Italy It was a summer night with the first scent of autumn. We watched the blue moon rise, a bit larger than usual, red turning to yellow. I walk arm in arm with my companion. I say moon gazing is more impressive than the falling stars. (August brings San Lorenzo when many Italians spend …

Milan, Italy I’m walking up the steps of San Maurizio’s Church wearing the regulation Covid mask that moves in and out as I breathe or talk behind it. It filters the air rendering it odorless, which contradicts the clear day. I will dance the reader through the following dialog. Commence with anything, I tell myself. Anything? I ask. Anything, I …

There was a thick smell of fresh manure while I was prowling around a native farm getting information for this article. The thought of the foul air surrendered to the aural of a mooing cow which drew me into the barn. I edged closer to the animal with its head locked between iron bars and its teats connected to a …

Italy is a complicated country, and the virus multiplies the complications exponentially. The stress builds, and thoughts surface to alleviate the tension. I ordinarily lock my bicycle to a signpost before entering the fruit store. But wearing the surgeon’s mask and gloves makes it too difficult to fish the key out of my front pocket to unlock it upon return, …

I’ve been shopping at divergent Italian fruit stores in the Milan suburbs: one has sweet Calabrese navel oranges for a euro a kilo, another has Colombian bananas for the same price. We rarely pay any more than a euro a kilo for all fruit and vegetables. Sicilian red oranges are currently 79 cents a kilo, but I sometimes find them …