Serie di romanzi fantasy per ragazzi pubblicata da De Agostini. Serie di romanzi per ragazzi in collaborazione con Alessandro Gatti , pubblicata da Mondadori. Serie di romanzi fantasy per ragazzi composta da sette romanzi, pubblicata da Piemme ne Il battello a vapore. Serie di romanzi gialli per ragazzi in collaborazione con Alessandro Gatti , pubblicata da Piemme.
Serie di romanzi per ragazzi in collaborazione con Davide Morosinotto , sotto lo pseudonimo comune di Amelia Drake, pubblicata da Rizzoli. Da Wikipedia, l'enciclopedia libera. Puoi migliorare questa voce aggiungendo citazioni da fonti attendibili secondo le linee guida sull'uso delle fonti.
Segui i suggerimenti del progetto di riferimento. Perche Non C E Piu? Ditelo Pure A Me! Il Ritorno Della L. Collana Sulla Legalita Vol. Read Ciccio Sull Isola Online. Read Cornicette Facili Facili. Read Da Che Parte Stare: Read Dio Spiegato Ai Bambini. Il Piccolo Gregge Online. Read Eccoci In Prima! Citta D Italia Online. Read Il Principe Dei Botanici: Read Il Regno Segreto.
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Read Tutti Al Circo! Read Winnie The Pooh Online. Read Zanna Bianca Classici Online. Rime Raminghe PDF complete. Robin Hood Sbarca In Italia. Tirateci Fuori Da Qui! Un Passo A Te: What do you do, instead? When are you planning to stop? This is the last one! I don't want to see you around here any more! Then she continued on to the city gate and settled herself on a low stone wall.
The wall bordered the road that looked on to a wooded area right below. The woman kept holding the bottle that had been given to her, tight to her chest. Her head hurt, as if something was pressing on her temples. She knew that when she had this feeling, it was because they were coming, which was why she had gone to beg for the wine.
They constantly tormented her, and for years had never left her in peace.
Every time she began to feel the atrocious pressure in her head, she had to endure them again. She could feel them. The foliage of the trees on the hillside below her slowly began to change shape.
The branches extended and broke from underneath the foliage, transforming into large hands stretched towards the sky. At the same moment, the vegetation below her joined together, forming a dark, waving, slimy sea. The woman looked at the sight without interest and with resignation. Suddenly a voice spoke from the street behind her, calling her attention. The one that had spoken was a small clown, which skipped playfully around the other two people: The clown continued to speak: Don't you recognize them?
The masked female figure appeared to bring her hands close, and then bent in a loving pose. Meanwhile the clown sang: The woman removed the cork off the bottle. Immediately the two masked figures jumped, and the clown turned to them: The two bodies started to cover with green scales, and slowly settled to the earth rolling about, while the long hands of the trees behind the woman reached out and grabbed her by the waist.
She screamed and immediately lifted the bottle to her mouth, gulping down a huge mouthful of wine. At that moment, the nightmare disappeared and everything was back to the way it was before. Meanwhile a boy coming down the street on his bicycle witnessed her eager drinking. She gazed at the boy without answering.
Don't you recognize me? Come on, I'll take you home. As she walked, her gaze remained fixed in front of her and she continued to repeat: They wanted me to believe Markus opened it, motioning the woman to enter.
Pierdomenico Baccalario, noto anche con lo pseudonimo di Ulysses Moore ( Acqui Terme, 6 marzo ), è uno scrittore e sceneggiatore italiano, autore di. Il primo libro, dal titolo La porta del tempo è editato da Il battello a vapore in . Pierdomenico Baccalario was born in Acqui Terme, Italy, in and he English translation published by Random House,, Ring of Fire , La prima sorgente Published by Piemme,, Hotel a cinque spettri , Una famiglia.
The woman turned to him and said: Were your parents serpents too? His sideburns also appeared to extend down his face, because of a light, unusual hair growth that had started to appear on this face. In the morning he looked at himself in the mirror for a longtime, every time with the fear of waking up and not being able to recognize himself. He was not awaiting nor had asked for all these body changes. Because of them, he felt submersed in a fog of confusion and doubts. He had been able to surround himself with things and actions that made him feel serene and hopeful.
Cerebellar cortical infarct cavities are seen on MRI in as much as one third of patients with recently symptomatic vertebral artery stenosis. The local Ligurian tribe of the Statielli had joined the Romans at an early period, but were attacked in BC and some were transferred to the north of the Po. The woman removed the cork off the bottle. Travestitevi da lupi o da agnelli se questo serve. He loved her more than himself! Favorite l'amicizia, fate che i giovani si leghino tra loro.
His physical appearance was one of them. His black curly hair falling on his white forehead, his red lips framed under a small straight nose and his prominent eyebrows framing a lively but intense look, created an image from the past, right out of a Caravaggio painting. This look he felt comfortable with made him feel safe. As a result, these morning inspections in front of the mirror revealed a frowning forehead that revealed preoccupation and disappointment. He had been living with his parents in a small, isolated house on the Umbrian hills surrounding Orvieto since he was five, since — that is — his father Josh he had ruined his life in that crazy merry-go-round that is New York City.
He had then bravely chosen to move, in agreement with his wife Mary. Both had been pondering that possibility for years and every detail had been taken care of with extreme care. Josh wrote articles on Italian customs, traditions and culture for the American market, while Mary worked in photography. Markus was not enthusiastic about their choice, even if he was familiar with those places since he was very young, as he had been vacationing there in the summer every year.
He realized he was going to lose all his friends to find himself in a completely new place, without anything familiar to refer to. The family would talk about it at length in the evening. In the end, he accepted the move, even if his decision was prompted more by his desire to make his parents happy, than to make himself happy. When the world turns upside down, the only way to remain strong is to lean against recognizable stable pillars. His family, his room, his bicycle and his first true friends were pillars of strength to Ughino.
Three years went by before he could give up the New York Yankees poster hanging in front of his bed, to make room for a poster of an Italian soccer team. He had learned to speak Italian perfectly and he attended the local middle school with notable success. Despite some initial difficulties, he was immediately cheerfully accepted by all his schoolmates and teachers. The small realities of both the province and the country luckily did not destroy human relationships like urban centers do, revolting anonymous machines that they are. Markus then became friends with everybody, despite his initial distrust.
Among all his friends though, there was one special friend, a girl: Unfortunately, destiny made this friendship hard for the boy, for Angela lived in Rome and only during the summer, and sometimes during some holidays, she would vacation with her parents where Markus lived and where her parents owned a small house inherited from an elderly aunt. Angela was a year younger than Markus and they had become friends before he left New York, since both families had chosen the same place to vacation at. It was because of his great friendship with Angela that Markus learned to speak Italian quickly.
For a couple of years, Markus and Angela had been enjoying more freedom with the permission of their parents. As a result, they would spend their days on the hills, biking along the wooded paths, looking for small animals and climbing trees, looking for hideouts. Angela was a lively, blond girl, always ready for any adventure Markus would suggest. She was slim and agile like a gazelle in the fields and a squirrel on the trees. He never thought about the difference of the sexes too much, nor was this bothering him in any way.
All this, up to that year when — in summer — Angela went back to the village again. Like Markus, she was growing and physically changing and Markus was aware of all these changes. The once-bold little girl had gotten taller, her hair was styled differently and had a different shine, and her clothes did no longer disguise the flat and dry figure of years past. Her look had also changed and become so piercing it went right through you like a dagger.
Markus was thinking about this, while hesitating for quite a few minutes in front of the mirror… Suddenly he heard someone knocking at the bathroom door. I will be back tonight. Your father is up in his den, writing. She would leave early in the morning with all her photo equipment and spend the whole day traveling through the hills and bordering villages. At night, she would come back with a good number of pictures, which, through the night, she would examine and make changes to. Hidden in his den, he would write all-day long and send his work to editors by e-mail. After breakfast, Markus went into the garden, making his way towards the back of the garage, where Josh had set up a basketball court for him, using one of the garage walls.
The boy would spend a lot of time bouncing the ball on the pavement, then throwing the ball into the basket. All this physical activity calmed him down. As he was slowly swirling around, dragging behind him the ball bouncing on the pavement, that morning he thought of his friend Ughino, with all the problems his image would conjure up. So intent was his thought, that Markus stopped the ball with his hands and stood for a moment looking at the climbing roses that were decorating the garage door. Markus turned around and his face lit up.
She threw it on the ground and they hugged happily, transported by the spontaneity of a gesture they were accustomed to since they were five. Markus though realized he had perhaps been too spontaneous. He pulled away immediately, blushing. His face beamed with delight. Cheerful, playful and full of life. He was greeting everybody loudly But his mother has gotten worse.
He told me himself and I actually saw it for myself. He said there is very little that could be done since she is mentally sick.
They suddenly heard a loud noise of metal, stones and wheels coming from the access road to the village house. The two got up and moved towards the lane that led to the main entrance. When they got to the corner of the garage, they had to move back to make room for a boy who was riding a strange three-wheel vehicle with great speed. Then he addressed both of them: I am very happy. Ughino started to get off the bike and then hesitated. Would you like some juice? He looked at Markus and said: I have to continue my deliveries I just wanted to say hello.
He looked at Angela, trying to let her know. She understood immediately and said: I have to go help my parents get set up. Then Ughino got off his bike, stopped pretending he was happy and hugged Markus. Then Markus pulled his bicycle out of the garage and pointing to the road said: He was ten years old, but because of the emotions and the grief that life had reserved for him, he could teach good judgment and maturity to his fifteen-year-old friends.
The engineers of the municipality had tried various times to have the two legally evicted, as the dwelling was considered not desirable for health reasons, but every time, independent groups of people had dissuaded them and convinced them to defer action. Paola, the mother, was still young, but she looked like an elderly woman. She was afflicted by many ailments and when she was able to rustle up a little alms money, she would always go home with a bottle of wine in her hands.
Paola was an orphan and she had never known her parents. She grew up in a convent and when she was twenty she had gone to work as an attendant at a summer camp for children on the Emilia Romagna coast, where she had met her first and last love. Salvatore, a tourist traveling in that area, invited her to dinner and they stayed together until morning, when Paola had to go back to work.
The following days she waited for him in vain on the beach where they had met. She looked for him in a futile search throughout the whole city, only to realize the only thing she knew about him was his first name. Salvatore had left her, much like her mother had done. At the end of the season, she returned to the village pregnant with Ughino, her mind totally empty. As the baby was getting bigger, the mother was withering away.
Her body slowly sagged like a bamboo whipped by the wind and only alcohol could make her bear the eternal grief of life. Ughino understood immediately, since he was very small, that he had to take care of himself, as well as his mother. So he would go to school and after school he would take care of the house, helping Paola as if she were a little girl.
Despite his sad destiny, Ughino smiled all the time and he would play with his friends, who loved him a lot, any chance he got. The boy did not want his friends to pity him because of his condition, so often he would tell innocent lies to mask his meager truth. Sometimes, he was invited to lunch by families of friends, and was served with wonderful dishes of Umbrian tradition.
He would then thank the hostess by saying: Just the way my mom fixes it! Things were different with him. He spent a lot of time with him and thought of him as an older brother.
Once, when school let out, a couple of older boys arrogantly stopped Ughino. It was Giovanni Montaldi and Piero De Lisis, sons of two wealthy businesspeople from Orvieto, dressed from top to bottom in fashionable clothes. They did not have many friends at school, but their private alliance seemed to satisfy them and they did not feel they had to be friendly to other people. Always bold and arrogant, they had several times shown lack of courage in their actions. Therefore, they usually would bother the younger and the weaker kids.
Ughino was one of them. One time, Giovanni and Piero started making fun of him because of his older shoes with holes, shoving him around as they spoke, while he was trying to resolve the situation with a smile. Suddenly Piero kicked him and his backpack filled with his school notebooks fell in the sand. Then Ughino turned and saw the boy turning red, because an arm, behind him, was grabbing him by the neck. With a yank, Piero fell on the ground and immediately Markus was on top of him, beating him up, while a couple of friends were holding Giovanni back.
During the summer, Ughino helped Mario, the manager of the only food store in the village, with deliveries to clients. Since during the summer holidays the number of people increased because of the arrival of all the people who owned a country cottage, the need for deliveries increased, as the store was getting bigger and acquired more clients. So, Mario had given Ughino a bicycle he had modified for small deliveries: Little Ugo felt mighty proud when he was riding this unique vehicle and often he would come back from his deliveries full speed, doing acrobatics on two wheels.
But when he went home, he left his cheerfulness outside the door, like a coat hanging from the door. The boy would put his love and patience clothes on and cross the door bravely. His mother would usually sit by the window, crossing her legs, with her foot constantly moving up and down. Her gaze was lost in empty infinity and nearly always she did not even know her son had come back. Ughino thought his mother was the most beautiful woman in the world and he hoped every day that she would heal quickly.
His continuous care and attention was not enough, he thought. Maybe he should take her to the hospital. But how could he love her more? He loved her more than himself! Every day he tried to be more affectionate. His heart would break, for he could not see any improvement.
He would cook for her, talk to her, he cared for her hands and feet, and he would tell her about what was happening in school, but she would rarely answer, and when she did, only in monosyllables. He would then go in the bathroom, turn on the faucet and cry his heart out, hitting his head with all his strength, crying rivers of steaming tears into the basin, clutching his heart because of the pain. She is completely mad.
I met her yesterday and took her home. He tried to change the topic: Do you want to go to the beach with us? Do you remember the last time, when she fled at night and we found her on the bridge? Who gets to the square first decides the punishment! Markus looked at him straight in the eyes and said: Let us through, I have to go to the store!
Piero did not move. The left window of the car was lowered and a voice screamed from inside: Giovanni grabbed his bike and started pedaling towards the descent. But he did not need to; he already knew it was a heavy person with white withered skin, with his head dripping with sweat and black sun glasses perennially resting on his forehead. Not because of you. Ughino got off his tricycle and said: He enjoyed watching the women in and out of the store, chatting, with bags filled with heads of lettuce and loaves of bread.
Those images were engraved in his mind since he was small, even though they were not keepsakes from his own land. He only remembered a lot of confusion and the icy cold of the huge supermarket in the city where he was born. The younger told the oldest: You see how nice and polite he is? Despite all the bad things that happened to him Just yesterday, I found his mother at my front door.
She had finished the wine. Once in a while she comes over to my house too. But what should I do? I would feel like I did Ughino wrong. But now we have to do something. And we can take turns caring for the boy. How much trouble can that polite boy be? I know he takes care of all the housework, he could even help me! He wanted to tell those women that if they really loved Ughino, the last thing to do was to separate him from his mother.
He had to find a solution. Meanwhile, Ughino had left the store and was loading the bags on the cart. When they were alone again on the road, Ughino continued: Tell me about your idea. But we know nothing about him; he has been living there by himself for years, since he first came to the area! But they call him Doctor Draconis, and I heard that he was a doctor.
He may be able to help me. How did you come to think of him? Maybe because I heard he was a doctor, and maybe because nobody can help mom. What do you say? Would you go see him with me, and ask for his advice? Are you aware of what everybody around here says about him? There is just one thing She is a friend of mine and you can trust her.
Let me know when you intend to go. I have to go home now. Markus was happy to see him like that, even if deep inside he was doubtful of the decision he had made. He lived with his cat, Bastet, in a decrepit house, lost in a small wooded area between the villages of Sugano and Orvieto. Nobody knew what he did all-day, but if you walked along the house you could nearly always hear the sound of a clarinet, which — from the windows up high — would meander up to the top of leafy trees.
It was not a pretty house and it certainly did not bring a smile to the people passing by. The window shutters were hanging down like the eyebrows of sad eyes. The outside walls served as a perennial bed to the gigantic climbing vegetation and even the main front door was so misshapen that it appeared to be grinning with contempt and grief.
In winter, he would always wear a long, black overcoat and a large hat with brims curved towards the bottom, while in summer, he would dress entirely in white. Shirt and pants were so big that his thin, tall figure would appear ghostly. His face was thin and sunken under his cheek bones and his eyes were set deep and overshadowed by his sockets, blocked and hidden from any observer. His hair was long and smooth, down to his shoulders, by now partially grey, even though the age of the doctor was a mystery.
When he would go to the village, he would speak to people in a very polite manner, often speaking in a polished style, not characteristic of that area. His speech was concise, just what was necessary and no more. Under no circumstances he had appeared hesitant when starting a conversation with unknown people. He was heard talking in public only once.
It was when, at the market, a mother was screaming to her son, who apparently had stolen a pen from a man who sold stationary. The woman hit him on the back, as she was screaming: I am hitting you also for having lied, for saying you did not steal that pen! Hermes was the one who told him to lie. And who is this Er When they found out, the young Hermes denied it repeatedly; he lied with strength and courage to the God who was accusing him. Faced by such impertinence, Apollo started to laugh and forgave him.
Children must lie, Hermes tells them to. When he would leave the house to do some shopping, he would walk on foot through the wooded area, dragging behind him a small four-wheel wooden cart on which he would load his supplies. The title of doctor had been given to him by the inhabitants of the village, as it looked like in the past he had practiced medicine. No one knew, however, what kind of medicine, nor if he ever had taken care of, or healed anybody.
The elderly ladies were very suspicious and if they happened to meet him, they preferred to go another way. Talk had it that he did not have any children and that he had moved to his house a long time before, following the untimely death of his young wife, whom, as a doctor, he apparently had not been able to save… Since then, he had been a recluse in his own house, a house where the only sound was that coming from his sad clarinet. Doctor Draconis lived in that area in great privacy and this had created stories, testimonies and fairy tales about him.
One of the stories about Draconis around San Quirico was that while he was travelling around the world looking for answers to his questions, young Doctor Draconis met and fell in love with Suseri, a Japanese girl. Once, unbeknown to him- he hid a poisonous spider in the pocket of a jacket hanging in the closet. As fate would have it, that morning, Draconis did not wear it when he left. The spider bit her and she fell on the ground, where she died after a few minutes.
When Draconis returned home, he found her on the ground and tried to save her, unsuccessfully. Word has it, that the grief was of such magnitude that the doctor from that day onward became a loner. The inhabitants of Porano had an addition to the story: Draconis would communicate with the spirit of the young Suseri through the sound of the clarinet. Someone also said he had seen him at night go down the well in front of his house and come out only in the morning. No one could tell if the stories were true or born from the imagination of the people. The truth of the matter is that Draconis was, by then, an integral part of that environment, just like the woods, the houses, the vineyards and the vegetable gardens.
That afternoon he was going with him to the Orvieto library to pick up some books Josh had ordered the week before. He climbed on the seat of the jeep that was already in motion and they took off on the white road leading to the highway. Markus had an open and sincere rapport with his father and often shared his interests leafing through his papers, articles and books. When the family moved to Italy, through the whole delicate moving phase, Josh had been very close to his son, trying his best to offer him a strong and firm support at a time of great uncertainty.
As they were getting onto the highway, they met Ughino who was entering the road, going towards the Allen residence on his delivery tricycle. I have to ask Ughino something. I will be right back. I can come by around six. Be at my house at six. Markus was lost in thought. I often think about him and I am tempted to go visit him to write an article. But Mary discourages me all the time On the other hand, not even Melampus was aware he was one!
He was the first mortal granted divine powers by the gods. You know I love it when you tell me mythic stories! It was as if there was a universal mould for every occasion. Wait; let me think about the story He would understand the language of birds and insects because it seemed that two serpents, grateful for a favor, licked his ears.
The man had been sick since he was a young boy, ever since he had witnessed the sacrifice of two rams by his father, when he saw him walking holding a knife covered with blood. That sight made Ificlus sick, but no one understood that, with the exception of the two birds of prey that witnessed the fact. He ran to get the old knife that was still stuck in the trunk of a tree and made Ificlus drink the rust formed by the blood of the ram, dissolved in a little water.
Somehow, he had to get rid of that terrible image from his childhood, and perhaps the blood of the ram reminded him of that. And what does Melampus have to do with Draconis? It was just to show you that Melampus was a doctor without knowing it. They got out of the car and started walking towards the escalators that were climbing inside the hill like a worm making its way upwards inside an apple. All around, they were surrounded by the tuff walls of the gallery, the color of toasted hazelnuts.
The gallery was a steep climb, until it exited near Piazza Raineri. When they got off the escalators, the two turned to the right towards via Loggia dei Mercanti and when they stopped in front of the Piccolomini Hotel, they had to flatten against the wall to make room for a car with a powerful engine that was coming down the alleyway. Markus was familiar with that car. I am happy to see you. And since city hall gave us the license, it would be very useful if you could write an article for your American editors. And the tourists would be very happy to know that here they could find the same food they eat in their own country!
His small eyes hidden by the fat of his cheeks and his nose, flat above his swollen lips, made him truly grotesque. They said goodbye and as soon as the car was gone, Markus vented his disappointment: You even promised him you would write him an article? But I did not tell him what I will write in the article!
As they were paying for their snack, Josh heard someone calling him: Come sit with us for a little while! I find you very well. Looking towards the display case of the news vendor, Markus said: He said he is going to be at my house at six. We'll go there together. He motioned Markus who was approaching them. Then Angela turned to her mother saying: I will see you later, at home. Matilde used to go to the cemetery every week. She would clean and shine up the marble slab that had been guarding the memory of Anselmo, hear husband, for over ten years.
To her, that visit was a pleasurable break from her daily monotony and after having taken care of the flowers, changed the water and washed the marble, she would sit on the stool she brought from home, and chat peacefully with Anselmo's smiling picture. At the village, nothing new, except the seasonal tourists are coming and at least there is someone on the road.
Fausto and Teresa are here too, and they say hello. I have always taken care of them you know, just like you used to do, and I remembered that in November you prune only the stems that didn't bloom during the season, leaving only the flowers dry on the other stems. Next spring you will have hydrangeas as large as watermelons! The lavender bush has grown a lot too.
This time though, I am going to take all the branches off and make them into scented laundry baskets like my mother used to do when she was alive. She told me that after the summer, Giovanna and she are going to city hall to convince them to put Paola Stoppa, that poor soul, in an institution, while Ughino is taken care of.
Life was unkind to her since her birth, but now Ughino needs a normal life with a normal family. He needs someone to take care of him. This is another one of her lunacies: Did you know she comes on foot from Sugano? She never takes the bus and the road is very long! She was holding a bunch of small wild flowers she had likely picked up along the way and from time to time, she would put one in the vases of the loculus. What are you saying? We give her wine, anytime she wants it! In the meantime, Paola seemed happy with her visit and she started moving towards the exit of the cemetery, lazily dragging her feet on the stone pavement.
When she reached the large entrance gate, she turned towards the tombs one more time and observed them, turning her head from right to left in a collegiate greeting and exited towards the road. From the back seat, Angela pointed to the woman and said: He then stopped in an open space. Markus got out of the car and moved towards the woman. Then, running, he caught up with her. After they left, Josh asked: Do you have someone there? Markus helped the woman get out of the car and accompanied her inside.
On the way home, Josh — deep in thoughts — could only say: He was trying to shoot a basketball, but he was probably too short for that. He waved cheerfully to all of them and Josh stopped the jeep. I am going in, have fun and Ughino placed the ball on the ground, tucked his shirt inside his pants and said: As soon as they reached the highway, they crossed it, entering an alley in the front that ran along the perimeter of a thicket. The other side of the road was delimited by grassy fields that sloped along the side of the hill; the grass was very tall and, for the most part, dry.
We have to leave our bicycles next to the large oak tree. Then, they had left, for they thought they heard some steps coming down the stairs. Markus remembered that day well, because it was very cold and on the way back home it had started to rain cats and dogs. They arrived in the vicinity of the turn to the inside of the wooded area. The pair on the tricycle was moving slower and at every pothole Ughino would jump really high, almost falling to the ground.
She was standing by the road, looking in the direction of a tree. We almost hit you! She turned towards them, her mouth open and in disbelief, pointing to the tree. It was standing still in the middle of the road and would not move Then it opened his mouth and I thought it was about to speak!