The rain pours over the rooftops…

Thunderstorm - Ascona - Switzerland

The rain pours over the rooftops of the city still enveloped in darkness. The silvery flashes of lightning, ripped through the night shy, illuminates up the steps of the woman who runs at breakneck speed along the bike path that extend beside the lake. The long flowered skirt is glued to the body highlighting her thin body. With an angry gesture of her hands, she raises the fabric just enough to clear the knees and in doing so to facilitate her movements. The long amber hair collected over the nape, wriggle to the rhythm of her quick steps.

The smell of the water penetrates everything, with arrogance, creeping into the nostrils of the woman. There are sparkling rivulets, carrying along the edges of sidewalks few leaves torn from the branches of trees by the force of the wind. Everything is enveloped in the darkness, every form is like trying to come to life whenever a flash profane the sky. The trees rise like ghosts of other worlds, driven by the fury of the elements. Those are moments where the human is related to the divine, those moments of profound atavistic fear in which man realizes the tremendous force of Nature.

Apparently everyone is asleep, lulled into sleep while living dreams representing a kind of parallel life in which each one finds oneself unconditionally. It’s the frustration that sometimes generates anxiety into the nightmares in those who, dropping all barriers, finds themselves in a dream-like sketch which involves them in the daily life.

But not for all it’s like that: there are people who consciously know how to teleport from one dimension to another, restraining upon the psychic force the entry into the paranormal world where they can manipulate their very existence. This faculty is believed apparently reserved only for the followers of esoteric occult practices, but was later revealed as innate qualities of the “dreamers”.

These “dreamers”, commonly called Annwyn, although their molecular structure is exactly equal to our in purpose to protect them in disguising their presence among us, but the power of their minds is immeasurable.


L’odore dell’acqua è penetrante e si insinua con prepotenza nelle narici della giovane. Rivoletti schiumanti trasportano lungo i bordi dei marciapiedi qualche foglia strappata ai rami degli alberi dalla forza del vento. Tutto è avvolto nell’oscurità, ogni forma sembra come voler prendere vita tutte le volte che un lampo profana la volta celeste. Gli alberi emergono come spettri d’altri mondi, mossi dalla furia degli elementi. Sono quei momenti dove l’umano si rapporta al divino, quegli attimi di profonda paura atavica nei quali l’uomo realizza l’immane forza della Natura!

Apparentemente tutti dormono, cullati nel sonno, mentre vivono sogni che rappresentano una sorta di vita parallela nella quale incondizionatamente ognuno può smarrirsi. È la frustrazione che genera a volte l’angoscia degli incubi, in chi, lasciando cadere ogni barriera, si ritrova a ripercorrere in chiave onirica ciò che lo coinvolge nel quotidiano.

Ma non per tutti è così: ci sono persone che coscientemente sanno trasportarsi da una dimensione all’altra, coartando con la forza psichica l’entrata in quel mondo paranormale dove possono manovrare la loro stessa esistenza. Queste facoltà che si credevano apparentemente riservate solo ai discepoli di pratiche esoteriche occulte, si sono in seguito rivelate come doti innate dei “sognatori”.

(excerpt from the novel The Annwyn’s Secret * copyright C.Giovannoni 2013)

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