Monbazillac We know she’s going to die soon,so we’ve started clearing out her house. We spend our evenings sorting throughGranny’s photos: Mum throws all the albums from her trips with her club into the binbecause none of her friends have visited her since she’s been in the nursing home.We find a cardboard folder on which…

        Bologna   A terracotta forest of distorted towers: medieval Manhattan where Dante wandered. Madonnas nestled at the corner of each via: mounds of sacred hearts, altars of salted tears. The manganese facades of palaces and porticoes with faded frescoes. The embalming smell of a leather-bound book and the one diffused via a…