Tag Archive flyingstories

Vendetta!

Vendetta!

— Read in Italian —

— Read the previous one —

Searching for the salesman

Glassy eyes, like the ones emotionless of a big doll. The guy, as everyone always calls him, is looking motionless at the door. No, it’s not an entrance or an exit what he’s searching for, but a bit of rest. Here, on the ground abandoned, lays the letter, still open

Not being able to help you when you needed, that’s my disease, not being able to see what you really could be, but nothing ever let me be happier than seeing you coming to this world

From negative…

All negative sentences, as someone whose intent is to prepare for the worst, put the hands ahead. Like the day your younger cousin asks you to come with him for the first ride alone in the car and you just try to press on an invisible brake. This seems to be the purpose of that incipit, that continued

I wish I could have the force to rise my head and fight for you that night

…to conditional

From negative phrases to a conditional one, you can see you’re close to the truth. A doubt, anyways, a carcinogenic shadow spider of the thoughts, cannot stop oppressing the eyes of the guy. It was only a feeling of guilt without hope or a real immense love the one his grandma always showed to him? How could she hide a fact so important for so long, letting it mutate in a cancer and letting the soul itself suffer? If she would just have the bravery to say something like

I know how things were and it wasn’t easy to hide it from you for so long. What I know is that if I’d told you this before, probably now I wouldn’t be sick, and you weren’t reading these lines suspended by those stones that are my tears.

A small detail

Yet, it’s not the grandma what matters right now. She helped doing so, but someone else is the one who actually did it. If he wants to find out whom, he needs to focus on another detail. The night of the accident for example

Vendetta!
Vendetta!

There was three or four in the morning, when a young man knocked the door followed by a doctor. Do you remember, you used to like doctor B. It was Christmas Eve and your dad was crying all day in his room. In that room you could see all the misery of a widow, a half man without purpose, getting grey among the rooms of his memory. And then there were you, the happiness embodied, the fire able to get warm the entire house. You were drawing as always in your room, laying in your bed. At the time you were into elephants, I remember. I didn’t know what to do, those man passed through the stairs leaving your dad in his room, searching for some useless music he couldn’t find in the air.

A white soul

Then the letter continues with all the details, how they had to restrain him, knock him out and drive him to death, in order to extract his soul. A white soul, so bright that it makes everyone laugh, even his father downstairs in his room. The doctor, at the last moment, seemed to feel it was wrong, and they pushed him out. Everything seems to be so smooth, but something else should be important, right there

Who was that salesman?

I don’t know how to describe the face of that man, the salesman. everything was so rapid, my small snail. I remember the wanted to speak to you, before. I don’t know if it was just to distract you, or maybe to understand if that soul was the real one. Maybe the doctor wanted to stop everything and he was trying to find a way to do so.

The soul sketched it!

Sure! Why he couldn’t think about that before! Even if he cannot remeber anything, he had the pencil and the sheet in from of him. His soul draw that moment, that’s for sure. The doctor and the other man, they have to be somewhere, the last draw of his helpless soul is the most important.

The stolen soul

This is the case of the stolen soul, it must be. And the guy doesn’t know yet that the person he wants to search has his name craved in his left foot, right now.

Read the first chapter!

This story will be published once per week only, with all rights reserved for the story and its translations by Flyingstories.org and in the person of Daniele Frau.

All the graphics are handmade and designed with different techniques by Gabriele Manca, DMQ productions, who reserves all rights. 

All English articles published in Souls (alive) proofread by Elisabeth Corcoran

Capitolo I il mondo delle anime

Capitolo I

Il Mondo delle Anime

Read in English

Un intero capitolo è finito. Se poteste vedere le vostre facce mentre sfrecciate dentro e fuori da porte  portiere, sapreste perché ho iniziato a scrivere questa storia. Non c’è altro che noi, umanità ammassata in ogni angolo del cerchio. Ho posato i miei occhi su madri e padri, bambini insonnoliti e piccole nuvole a forma di orsetto. Eppure ho dovuto scrivere una storia perché tutte queste idee, queste visioni, si legassero insieme.

I ristoranti

I ristoranti ad esempio, in cui passo più tempo di quanto vorrei, sono stati una parte importante di questo primo capitolo. Persone appena incontrate si sforzano di rimanere concentrate mentre sperano che dall’altra parte del mondo un impulso elettrico porti loro un sorriso. Come chi, uscendo dal deserto, aspetti la pioggia mentre si siede paziente e un po’ annoiato alla base di una fonte fresca.

Le strade

In questo capitolo si sono introdotte le strade. Brulicanti di fango, sabbia e macchine. Mancano solo i personaggi, gli umani. Quelli sono belli nascosti dentro i loro abitacoli a bere caffè in tazza grande. Fuori, un suono irreale cerca di risvegliare la passione sopita per ciò che ancora si suole chiamare Natura.

Le anime

Le anime tengono questo mondo collegato. In questo capitolo le anime hanno tenuto silenziosamente tutti uniti, mentre in quello seguente inizieranno a urlare. Un tamburo che passa delle informazioni di villaggio in villaggio, una trama che si infittisce senza addensarsi. Strati di nuvole.

Anticipazioni

Nel prossimo capitolo vedrete qualche faccia nuova. Saprete già tante cose, dagli oggetti in grado di raccontare ai sogni di gloria di S. Ciò renderà la storia più viva e forse più attraente. Ci saranno nuovi punti di vista, orologi perfino, che con le loro lancette terranno il tempo del racconto. Che dire? Come sempre, alla settimana prossima!

Oh, ps,

Qui di seguito ci sono tutte e 12 le parti della storia. Si, proprio 12 come i numeri sul quadrante di un orologio che non vede l’ora di entrare in scena.

-1– Sono un umile paio di scarpe –1–

–2– Il discorso dell’anima –2–

–3– Il valore dell’anima –3–

-4– Il venditore di anime –4–

–5– Il negozio di anime–5–

–6–Lezioni di vendita –6–

–7–La scatola delle anime –7–

–8–Il cinema, la pubblicità –8–

–9– Il cinema, il bacio –9–

–10– Il ristorante –10-

-11- Il Capo -11-

-12- Il muro -12-

La storia avrà pubblicazione a cadenza settimanale. Tutti i diritti sulla storia sono riservati da Flyingstories.org e nella persona di Daniele Frau.

Tutte le grafiche sono eseguite a mano e in stili misti dall’artista Gabriele Manca, DMQ productions, che detiene i diritti sulle opere.

Incontro con il Capo

Il Capo

— Leggi il paragrafo precedente—

— Read in English —

Una notizia (in) aspettata

Una patata che cade al buio fa un rumore diverso, come se la patata del buio fosse diversa

Il fantasma

Certo a questo punto vorrete incontrare il capo. Eppure, permettetemi, ci arriveremo attraverso la descrizione di uno dei nostri fantasmi. Se infatti avete dimestichezza con dentisti e dottori odontoiatri saprete cosa li manda in bestia, ovvero

The restaurant- the woman in blue

The restaurant

Second date

–Read the previous chapter–

— Read in Italian–

A restaurant is quite a choice after a first date at the cinema. The reason why people decide to go to the restaurant is obviously not to seat and eat.

S. give up with his soul

Il negozio di anime

–leggi articolo precedente–

–read in English–

Il negozio di anime

La danza nel presente

Quando un’anima decide di danzare nel presente, è spesso ingrigita, deprezzata e dunque non molto richiesta. Sono anime di chi vive ogni giorno senza davvero vivere, senza usurare la propria

L'anima parla

Il discorso dell’anima

–read it in English–

–leggi l’articolo precedente–

Io sono l’anima

L’invisibile eppure presente

Io sono semplicemente l’anima. Mai mi venne dato modo di parlare davvero, chiusa dentro questa goffa spoglia da attore.  Non commetto peccati e non scambio sorrisi, proprio come non aziono macchine o premo pedali. Sono l’anima e in special modo l’anima di un attore. In lui oggi tutti riveriscono l’estro, la forza, con sorrisi tirati e piccole gocce di rugiada in campi arati da un chirurgo. Se solo vi vedeste tutti indaffarati a sembrare contriti, mentre ciò che più vi sta a cuore è rivendere la mia essenza rispecchiata in occhi senza più espressione alcuna. Occhi che hanno attraversato platee da parte a parte, aprendo loro la bocca per riempirla di risa, di stupore, di piccole lacrime felici.

I'm a humble pair of shoes

I’m a humble pair of shoes

–Read in Italian–

I don’t know what it would be, an object maybe kicking and howling in my chest. Does it have a name? If called, will it answer?

Souls (alive)

Chapter I

How they finally found out souls aren’t just born to work the land

I’m a humble pair of shoes

I know, I absolutely know. You’re not going to give any credibility to a humble pair of shoes, even though I can say I’m brand new, as new as a Government its first day after election. Don’t blame the new comer, though. Like every new comer, I’m not really new at all. And I don’t feel out of place when I compare myself with all those other moronic- lost- stitched- damned souls.

Griffondubledore

I'm a humble pair of shoes

I’m a humble pair of shoes

Why don’t I deserve a bit of credit myself? Actually, the fact your’re still here reading is a vote of confidence. And if I’m here, you can bet I’m not the same as all the other shoes. I know how many times you’ve heard this before, but I’m not really the kind of shoes eager to shout out “Griffondubledore!”. I know it’s easier that way, instead of imagining me as a mere case for a roving soul. Therefore, there’s nothing bizarre  about the fact that I feel immediately comfortable in the presence of this tall gentleman with the fashionable moustache. You don’t see it everyday, I must say (fashionable moustache, not tall gentleman). Ask yourself, who’s more nomadic than a salesman?

The man with the shoes

I like him because he’s always walking around, and can charm anyone with his words. Hopping from one foot to the other, he likes to take the tram and is oblivious to status symbols (you know, the kindthat induce you to spend the amount a new frisge would cost to buy a used phone). I think mostly my actual condition, being a pair of shoes, has nothing to do with a divine punishment; one of those castigations typical of celestial manuals with all the universal knowledge. I read those books during my roving around in different worlds. I don’t want to surprise you, but here everyone knows that there is no such thing as double H (Heaven and Hell). Science even convinced theagnostics. They searched deeper and deeper until they really found something. The final entity: the original soul in every human body. And we weight the soul, just for fun. The soul has always been there, but we were too blind, too uneducated to find it. We have since discovered that when the body is dead, it passes from an alive state with a soul to one dead with soul, but just for few seconds.

The passage

You have only few seconds to perform what’s known as “the miracle”. A specially designed apparatus sucks the soul before it goes to waste, disappearing into thin air, like a common gas (story of my life). As soon as the soul is inside the apparatus, it takes on the appeareance of a light. The purity and colour of the light varies, denoting the importance and value of the soul and therefore its rating. Sometimes, rarely, the soul is so attached to the body it’s leaving, that it has a wish to die with it. One example is the case of a famous artist who everyone knows, even the one between you that are less informed about art. A huge guy, you’d never imagine him to be an artist. A boxer maybe, a hulk with a grim look in his eyes which makes you think he’s about to rob you, or worse. On the contrary, he was a comic actor- a kind soul.

That light

If only you’d been there when his soul left his body! The resulting light was capable of making a monk’s soul look dark in comparison. Everyone started to laugh for no particular reason, as though they were under the influence of some euphoric drug. Sometimes the presence of pure souls makes people feel like children. For one fleeting moment the soul gives the sensation of purity to everyone in its presence. And what is more pure than a light, carefree laugh? Then the room became dark and the comic, lying on the bed with closed eyes moved his lips and began speaking:

–The story continues next week with Soul’s speech–

–What is this story about?–

This story will be published once per week only, with all rights reserved for the story and its translations by Flyingstories.org and in the person of Daniele Frau.

All the graphics are handmade and designed with different techniques by Gabriele Manca, DMQ productions, who reserves all rights. 

All English articles published in Souls (alive) proofread by Elisabeth Corcoran

Le anime (vive) 800x800 DMQ Productions

Le anime (vive)

–read in English–

–lee en Español–

Le anime (vive)

Sinossi

Dove, come, quando?

Eccoci in un mondo che non è tanto diverso da quello che la vostra anima è abituata a vedere splendere o ingrigire fuori dalle finestre di città o di campagna. Una realtà insomma non molto differente da quella in cui intingete i vostri biscotti nel latte e trangugiate fiumi o torrenti di caffè caldo bollente per tenervi svegli.

Credetemi, in tutto ciò che si trova in questo racconto nulla potrà sorprendervi, perfino questa apparente differenza consistente nel non voler morire, ma inviare la propria anima ad un curatore. Dare la vostra anima a qualcuno che ne apprezzi la limpidezza, la forza, anche post- mortem.

Cosa?

Anime

Dakar, Senegal

Senegal

–read in Italian–

Senegal

First stop: Dakar

Three million inhabitants, Senegal’s Capital city, Dakar is a city full of traits that make it a destination alluring for tourists. One of those traits is the famous Paris- Dakar. Even though if you want to attend it, nowadays you need to take into account to go halfway across the world. Football is another big star here, and in the street you’re going to see loads of people with the famous Lion’s t-shirt. And the food, and the people. But let’s go step by step. Dakar is similar to other African cities I visited, but more clean and tourist- friendly. So the first night I felt myself safe enough and brave to take a taxi and go a bit out of the city, close to the sea, in a restaurant managed (I discovered later) by a nice woman from Liguria, Italy.

But what exactly is Dakar? 

Philippines, here we are

Welcome to Flyingstories.org

Our idea

Flyingstories

There are so many different blogs and websites about travelling, teaching or simply tutorials. Seems like everyone is having the same idea in the same moment. How flyingstories is different? We’re not marketing oriented, with flyingstories we want to share our experience as travellers. Furthermore, we like to invent some stories from time to time and we’re gonna publish here.

Stories

Obviously, the flyingstories will be original and are going to have videos and pictures to explain it. Something more? We’re going to write in English, Italian and Russian, but we don’t want to stop there, come on board! Above all, we want to have fun, so we’re going to speak only about something we have a really expertise on. How to speak a new language, for example, or how to start writing a story. We’re going to be a tutorial, in the end?

Follow us!

If you want to have a better idea about our job here, just follow us on FB, Youtube, Linkedin and leave us a comment, we’re going to listen to you!

 

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