Story of the Month
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Nonno eases the door open to the soft anticipation of dawn. Snow dusts the entrance. He kneels to tighten the scarf about my chin, wafts of roasted chicory on his breath. He picks up the laden basket from the counter, and passes me the zappa from its mud-marked resting place. I cradle the tool’s long…
About the Caravellum
My name is Marcus Caravella.
I am a third-generation Italo-Australian who was born and raised in Boorloo. I am greatly influenced by the cultural experience of being a mish-mash of things and finding stories within all of them.
I am an emerging writer, who writes mostly as self-therapy and partly out of the hope that something will come of it all.
The Caravellum is my place to experiment.
