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Requiem For A Stray Cat
Gabriella Clare Marino / Worldcrunch
Mariateresa Fichele

At the mental health center where I work, we have always taken care of the area’s stray cats.

Birba had been around for a few years.

A few minutes ago, a boy walked in — one of those boys you see in the street, like so many in our city's Sanità neighborhood. He looked upset.

"Dottoré, they have just run over the red cat outside. She didn't make it. What can we do to give her a proper burial?"

A proper burial. A display of pity towards an animal by someone you just don't expect.

In these dark days, there's still a glimmer of hope.

____________________________

Learn more about Worldcrunch's exclusive Dottoré! series here.

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Dottoré!

Sowing The Seeds Of Paranoia

"They must be dumping garbage — good, it makes for good fertilizer!"

"Slowly, we were the only ones left"

Mariateresa Fichele

"Dottoré, I know a lot of flags, and let me tell you why. I grew up in the province of Caserta, and — like everybody in those days — my parents owned a piece of land, and they would take me with them to farm it.

I remember there were other kids in the fields around us. But then, slowly, we were the only ones left because everybody was selling the land, making a lot of money off of it too.

Papà wouldn't listen to reason and he kept the land. But in the meantime, instead of farmers, trucks began to arrive. Many many trucks, unloading thousands of barrels and burying them into the ground.

Keep reading...Show less
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We are grateful for reader support to continue our unique mission of delivering in English the best international journalism, regardless of language or geography. Click here to contribute whatever you can. Merci!
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