Tag: original story

Can a message change everything? The woman seemed touched but this answer and jumped a bit behind on the chair; a few seconds later, she was back on track, ready to show one of her famous smiles. “So, what are you asking us? What do you want from us?”...

— Read the First Chapter — — Read the Second Chapter — — Read the previous part — — Read in Italian — I’m a train I’m a train. An iron belly running fast over immense skates. Once being the soul of a train wasn’t as easy as right...

— Read the First Chapter — — Read the Second Chapter — — Read the previous part — — Read in Italian — Under the hat Days and days without any sound, just the same bicycle parked in front of the house. From the room, a dim light which...

— Read the First Chapter — — Read the Second Chapter — — Read the previous part — — Read in Italian — The help he needs The tracker Stumbles and bounces back, a dead branch of a tree dissolved in the wind. It’s just another dark shadow passing...

— Read the First Chapter — — Read the Second Chapter — — Read the previous part — — Read in Italian — Drawing the cold The evening is just a yellowed piece of paper desperately trying to picture a cold town. How do you illustrate a cold sensation?...

— Read the First Chapter — — Read the Second Chapter — — Read the previous part — — Read in Italian — Death Dying is so easy that no one wants really be next on the list. Or too difficult, perhaps? Maybe it’s just the dread of finding...

— Read the First Chapter — — Read the Second Chapter — — Read the previous part — — Read in Italian — The restaurant Real… food? Between a table and another you can count three steps. All squared tables are wooden, with a small tablecloth. On top of...

— Read the First Chapter — — Read the Second Chapter — — Read the previous part — — Read in Italian — The crowd Every human being and every culture which learned how to avoid stepping on the grass, must learn how to live together with solitude as...

Souls (Alive) Death, souls, escape and truth So many pieces of this story seem not to match, as they were a complicated w/b puzzle. We have flashbacks accounted by a crying grandma ashamed of herself, suicide offices and souls hidden inside cut fingers. A story of souls? Little by...

— Read in Italian — — Read the previous one — The encounter The colours and the sounds are fading away, colours in the eyes of a man drunk of life. He drops the bottle and P-ach-sh...