Stories and News

Stories and News No. 54: The Story : George lives with his mother. George is 40 years old and still lives with his mother. I know what you think; we are not in Italy , but in London . George lives at home with Margaret, who already passed the eighty. Margaret is blind; this is the apparent reason why George stayed with her. Margaret needs someone to look after and trusts only his son. This is the real motive why George is never gone. Every morning, George goes out, buys a newspaper and reads it to Margaret. Margaret listens but she is almost ever distracted, in fact she just likes to hear George’s voice. George has not a beautiful voice, but it is irrelevant. Margaret sometimes falls asleep and George puts a blanket on her legs. Not this morning. ”Well, let’s pass to hot news," George said. "This is the first one: sex with a minor, the adult… " "Berlusconi!" Margaret interrupted him, suddenly attentive. "Did they finally arrest him?&

Stories and News No.53 : The Story : This is the story of a successful manager . He was born in 1950 in Verzuolo, in the province of Cuneo and his parents gave him the name Flavio. He shows great tenacity since the beginning, opening a restaurant. It closed for too many debts, but this was undoubtedly a case. After a period as a salesman of insurance policies in Saluzzo, finally our hero enters the world he deserves: the entrepreneurship. He starts working with a financier and builder, Attilio Dutto, who had taken the Paramatti paints, former company of Michele Sindona . Bad fate, Attilio Dutto is killed with a bomb attached to the ignition of his car. This does not stop the rise of Flavio, who moved to Milan and begins attending the Stock Exchange. Here he is friend to Achilles Caproni, of the "notorious" Caproni Aircraft and becomes adviser of the CGI (Industrial General Company), Caproni’s holding company. However the usual misfortune befalls

Stories and News No. 52 : The Story : Flowers. No, sorry... roses. Yes, roses. Roses are my life. Not my passion, but it is not the same thing, isn’t it? I arrive with dusk, smiling, with flowers toward you. I am insistent, I admit. It almost seems that I force you to buy... Maybe it is true, maybe, if I might seriously force you, I would do. Many of you could do the same in my place, but it is better not to know. I understand that. Some of you respond to my laughter, someone else makes a denial gesture even before I am close; another one wants to be nice and asks me where I come from. And finally who an open bag arrives. God bless the bag and who invented this wonderful fountain that quenches my tramp throat. There are also those who mock me, but if in the end I reach the minimum to start the next day, I can forget them. Yes, I can forget everything. I do not erase anything and I do not have, but it is essential to avert the worst. Flowers… no, roses! I nev