Tag Archive shoes

That boy_ the hand of the grandma

That boy

— Read in Italian–

— Read the previous paragraph —

A sunny day

As absurd it would sound, sometimes we refer to a day as a “Sunny day”. As if in all the other cases the sun wasn’t there to show that the Earth isn’t hidden alone in the darkness of the universe. Even in the places in which seals and polar bears still survive, the sun is still there. Maybe you cannot see it for sometimes, but it’s still there, as an adult hiding from a child to win a laugh.

Il venditore di anime

The dealer of souls

read the previous article—

read in Italian—

The dealer of souls

Why the most strange job, between all jobs?

They call it a job! Working has a sense only if you wake up in the morning angry and tired in the morning. Make the bread or the ham, make the cheese or sell and buy, to weight and using instruments, tools. That is something which makes complete sense to be called a job.

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.


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