Storie Sotto Le Stelle Podcast

THE FLYING TOWNIn the vastness of the universe, there was a town called Ficulle. It looked normal, but it was flying.Continuously circling along with Earth in the Milky Way, it always paused for half an hour on the weekends. All the residents took this time to sit quietly and relax while sipping a nice frothy cappuccino. And then off they went again!After their break at the space bar, the town continued its journey. The residents resumed flying, and although it may seem a bit strange to you, the

THE STRAW HATS OF FLORENCEAt the end of summer, in a small country town, the fair was an event: people met and blah blah blah... at every corner of the streets. The main square was invaded by fun and exciting rides: the roller coaster, the Ferris wheel, the merry-go-round for the little ones, and much more.The stands of the candy sellers, with cotton candy, mint hard candies, and freshly made crunchies, attracted children like bees to honey. Stalls full of various merchandise awaited the first

THE TOY ROOMThree little siblings: a little girl with red curls on her head and two little boys with straight hair; every morning they went to school. They had fashionable backpacks from which they took out all the necessary items, but from each of the three backpacks a new toy came out. A child named Carletto had a worn-out and faded backpack, just a small notebook, an eraser, and a worn-out pencil; when the teacher noticed, she scolded him.Curious about the toys, one day he followed the three

BEEHIVE STREET, NUMBER 7The garden of the house at Beehive Street Number 7 was surrounded by a wall and closed with a gate. One day the owners, with their two children, decided to coat the inside of the wall with biscuits, honey, and jam in layers, as if they were bricks and cement; some of it melted but, pressed down, the coating was done.What a strange idea! But it was spring and the bees sucked the sweet jam like pollen from the flowers. The honey dripping from the wall reached the flowers,

WHO WRITES THESE STORIES?At sunset, from a window, a hot air balloon flew to the horizon. A cup of coffee with its saucer was placed on an old wobbly wooden table. A inkwell with colored ink and a pen with a shiny firefly at its tail were ready to narrate fantastic and magical stories.The writer, sitting on a three-legged stool, opened the creaking drawer of the table and picked out a dream to narrate. By magic, the pen, brighter than ever, dipped in ink, began to write; the pages filled up and flew