Stories and News No. 747
In a B&B in Rome a mother of Ravenna was advised to get out for his son, an autistic child.
Because he might disturb...
Once upon a time there was a population.
A united population.
Tight in the middle of the world.
Safe, protected.
Possibly away.
From danger.
Real or narrated it might be, because if the story and the news will greet along the way, it means that the boundaries between the naïve invention and the roughness of the bare ground becomes ambiguous.
Confused and rarefied.
Getting the most paradoxical outcome.
To fascinate drunken people by misguided tales, at the same time, to strengthen the beliefs of the population in question.
No one knows when it all began.
The exact moment when the intruder dared to shatter the evanescent eggs in the basket of dull anguish drawn.
What matters is that the story changed.
A girl with unregulated voice screamed, spotting the silent living of the population away.
So the latter reacted by pure consistency.
Or the opposite, there is no difference.
They shrank.
Enough to erase even the echo of the unwelcome melody.
An old man possessed by the demon of the good kind, which in turn was owned by an old flamenco female dancer who had been forbidden to dance up to ninety years, which in turn again had sold his soul to an angel distracted by an irrepressible curiosity, dared to approach the fingertips to the skin of the population.
Up to fulfill the unacceptable sin.
Read as well as the scandalous practice of human stubborn to remain human.
In short, touching.
In response the population moved according to script.
They shrank further.
To make the insane unknown skins meeting just a memory.
Ugly, an ugly one indeed.
The night seemed to be spent, when the third odd appeared.
A little girl.
Watching her, you would have also commented in the same way: "Look, look at her: she is a little girl..."
What a bad mistake before a professional stain killer, even if so young.
She was fully armed.
Tomato sauce and hamster droppings, mucus by a sheep without wool, somewhat cooled, and spit from a pretending cow mad, but that's not implies that its saliva was scented, if you know what I mean.
All this and more was thrown from the child wherever the victim exposed the hairless side.
Well, once again the population did not surprise.
They shrank again.
Just enough to become unreachable by the launches of the terrible enemy.
Nevertheless, it was only the beginning.
A girl, an old man and a child.
One, two three...
And others came, not less able to affect the forbidden word in the story of the people living in the middle of the world.
Disturb.
The population replied each time in the only way they knew.
And shrinking obtained the only result at the end of that road.
The population disappeared.
Deleting themselves from the earth.
Not until they realized that, more often than not, the meaning of disturb is simply the evidence.
That we are still alive...
Read other stories about diversity.
Storytelling with subtitles
Also on Stories and News:
In a B&B in Rome a mother of Ravenna was advised to get out for his son, an autistic child.
Because he might disturb...
Once upon a time there was a population.
A united population.
Tight in the middle of the world.
Safe, protected.
Possibly away.
From danger.
Real or narrated it might be, because if the story and the news will greet along the way, it means that the boundaries between the naïve invention and the roughness of the bare ground becomes ambiguous.
Confused and rarefied.
Getting the most paradoxical outcome.
To fascinate drunken people by misguided tales, at the same time, to strengthen the beliefs of the population in question.
No one knows when it all began.
The exact moment when the intruder dared to shatter the evanescent eggs in the basket of dull anguish drawn.
What matters is that the story changed.
A girl with unregulated voice screamed, spotting the silent living of the population away.
So the latter reacted by pure consistency.
Or the opposite, there is no difference.
They shrank.
Enough to erase even the echo of the unwelcome melody.
An old man possessed by the demon of the good kind, which in turn was owned by an old flamenco female dancer who had been forbidden to dance up to ninety years, which in turn again had sold his soul to an angel distracted by an irrepressible curiosity, dared to approach the fingertips to the skin of the population.
Up to fulfill the unacceptable sin.
Read as well as the scandalous practice of human stubborn to remain human.
In short, touching.
In response the population moved according to script.
They shrank further.
To make the insane unknown skins meeting just a memory.
Ugly, an ugly one indeed.
The night seemed to be spent, when the third odd appeared.
A little girl.
Watching her, you would have also commented in the same way: "Look, look at her: she is a little girl..."
What a bad mistake before a professional stain killer, even if so young.
She was fully armed.
Tomato sauce and hamster droppings, mucus by a sheep without wool, somewhat cooled, and spit from a pretending cow mad, but that's not implies that its saliva was scented, if you know what I mean.
All this and more was thrown from the child wherever the victim exposed the hairless side.
Well, once again the population did not surprise.
They shrank again.
Just enough to become unreachable by the launches of the terrible enemy.
Nevertheless, it was only the beginning.
A girl, an old man and a child.
One, two three...
And others came, not less able to affect the forbidden word in the story of the people living in the middle of the world.
Disturb.
The population replied each time in the only way they knew.
And shrinking obtained the only result at the end of that road.
The population disappeared.
Deleting themselves from the earth.
Not until they realized that, more often than not, the meaning of disturb is simply the evidence.
That we are still alive...
Read other stories about diversity.
Storytelling with subtitles
Also on Stories and News: