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Inside My Head


 

Reader, writer or lover of words, 

Follow the pen, and everything will be revealed to you.

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TI E' PASSATA LA VOGLIA DI SCRIVERE? leggi questo articolo e ti ritornerà  https://scribacchiniinfuga.wordpress.com/2016/12/15/ti-e-passata-la-voglia-di-scrivere-leggi-questo-articolo-e-ti-ritornera/
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Parmesan Cheese And The Aladdin's Lamp

Being a compulsive writer—in the sense that I write, I enjoy it and I can't stop doing it—I am convinced that our mind is 'the Aladdin's lamp'. All we have to do is tickle our brain and off we go: a puff of smoke containing every possible dream and desire comes out, ready to be unravelled in front of our very eyes. With a stroke of my hand i touch my Aladdin's lamp waiting for the genie to come out of my ears. It doesn't matter where I am, it can happen anytime, anywhere: while I am sitting on the bus, queing up at the supermarket, buying a sweater or chopping onions; not that I buy sweaters or chop onions that often. ...One night I found a big piece of cheese, perfectly sealed in its airtight plastic wrapper, on top of a letter box in Wimbledon. I recognized it immediately it was a gigantic piece, slice, chunk of Parmesan  glowing under the reddish-orange street light. How could anyone have missed it? Parmesan cheese under a spot light! It could have been ...
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ASTRID AND THOR ARE BACK

PART TWO   Astrid wasn’t working anymore. Work was a thing of the past; from 2066 the global workforce had been reduced to 2%. All factories − magicians hats, as they were now called − grew underground hidden by lawns and meadows, buried under hills, so that we could count daisies and look at clovers. Thor and Astrid were relaxing after a night picnic of fruit based meals and drinks for a total calories vitamins ratio of 1/100: a vitamin intake sufficient for the next seven days. Astrid was studying ‘history in the final year of capitalism and the collapse of the last empire’. She yawned thinking how oppressive work must have been, and tried to picture herself getting out of bed every morning even when it was raining but she really couldn’t.  How lucky she was to have been born after the collapse of society, as they knew it. Of course not everything was perfect, it still rained but rain was nice if you could sit in your glass-bubble roof terrace and sip tea. In a...
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