Roberta Mezzabarba - The Long Shadow Of A Dream

This is a work of fantasy. Names, characters, places and events are imaginary or used in a fictitious key and any reference to people, living or dead, to facts or to truly existing places is purely random

Original title of the work: Legàmi

First edition

december 2018

IL MARE

© 2017 La Caravella Editrice

Second edition in Spanish

Publicado por ©Tektime

june 2020

Third edition in English

Published por ©Tektime

october 2020

324 pages

Roberta Mezzabarba

The long shadow

of a dream

Novel

Translator: Emanuela Paganucci

For my grandmother Giacinta

- now just a sweet memory -

who taught me not to give up.

Never

The places of the novel The places of the novel

PREFACE PREFACE Greta could still remember that the night that she made the decision to turn her life around, the sea was lashed by a strong and icy wind from the north. She needed to get a grip of her life. She had made her mind up: she was going to run away. There were only waves in the darkness, looking like white and foamy tongues, trying to break up the calmness of that dark blue expanse of water. They were moving faster and faster as if willing to smack the dark rocks of that stony bay overhanging the water. The thick vegetation was scattered on the shore and was fluttering like nymphs with green hair ruffled by a bothersome wind. When Greta was a little girl, she used to hide in there so many times. It was in that heaven that she could make a strong and soothing connection with her wilder side. She felt so far away from the rest of the world that was around her, yet the pain was so strong that she could not feel anything else. She was probably detached from the rest of the world since she was a child, detached from what people felt it was right… and now, after such a long time, she was more and more convinced that she should have kept her distance from what was around her. Too often if we are too close to someone or too open, that can make us weak and helpless to judge and fight against what causes us harm. When she was a little girl, she liked to fantasize, her look was lost in the dark blue colour of the sea: she dreamed of being a princess locked up by a wicked witch. She held on only because she was waiting for her prince to come and rescue her on his white horse. It was probably chasing that dream, which had become really exasperating, that had deeply changed her life. Now that she was alone again, really alone, she bitterly realised that. Now that she did not even have the strength to put together the pieces of her life, debris that were gathering around her, moments which were lost forever. The shadow that had blocked off the sun was right in front of her. The long shadow of a dream.

PART ONE

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

PART TWO

7.

8.

9.

10.

11.

12.

13.

14.

15.

16.

17.

18.

19.

20.

PART THREE

21.

22.

23.

24.

25.

26.

EPILOGUE

Bibliography

Acknowledgements

Greta could still remember that the night that she made the decision to turn her life around, the sea was lashed by a strong and icy wind from the north. She needed to get a grip of her life.

She had made her mind up: she was going to run away.

There were only waves in the darkness, looking like white and foamy tongues, trying to break up the calmness of that dark blue expanse of water. They were moving faster and faster as if willing to smack the dark rocks of that stony bay overhanging the water.

The thick vegetation was scattered on the shore and was fluttering like nymphs with green hair ruffled by a bothersome wind.

When Greta was a little girl, she used to hide in there so many times. It was in that heaven that she could make a strong and soothing connection with her wilder side. She felt so far away from the rest of the world that was around her, yet the pain was so strong that she could not feel anything else.

She was probably detached from the rest of the world since she was a child, detached from what people felt it was right… and now, after such a long time, she was more and more convinced that she should have kept her distance from what was around her. Too often if we are too close to someone or too open, that can make us weak and helpless to judge and fight against what causes us harm.

When she was a little girl, she liked to fantasize, her look was lost in the dark blue colour of the sea: she dreamed of being a princess locked up by a wicked witch. She held on only because she was waiting for her prince to come and rescue her on his white horse.

It was probably chasing that dream, which had become really exasperating, that had deeply changed her life.

Now that she was alone again, really alone, she bitterly realised that. Now that she did not even have the strength to put together the pieces of her life, debris that were gathering around her, moments which were lost forever. The shadow that had blocked off the sun was right in front of her.

The long shadow of a dream.

“Why man boast of sensibilities superior

to those apparent in the brute?

It only renders them more necessary beings.

If our impulses were confined to hunger,

thirst, and desire, we might be nearly free;

but now we are moved by every wind that blows

and a chance word or scene that

that word may convey to us.”

(Mary Shelley)

Greta was sitting on the steps leading to the Duomo but it was getting late now. She would stay there forever to admire the double-arched windows of the Papal Palace, especially at sunset, when the red sun would make their fine design look even thinner. At first glance, they might have looked like valuable intaglio carvings, done by delicate hands of skilled embroiderers, but actually they were the fruit of the work of strong and meticulous mighty arms and experienced fingers of stonecutters from Viterbo who with their expertise, were able to master the apparent hardness of the peperino 1stone giving it the shape they wanted.

Everything was magic in those moments.

Greta had been working in Viterbo for the last five years as the secretary of a notary public. She loved that adoptive town, the little streets of the old part of the town paved with sampietrini 2, the fountains in every square, profferli 3. She loved the peaceful atmosphere that you would get in the countryside areas which were not too far from the town. Despite it all, as a real Sicilian woman, she could not keep away from the water, the element that she loved the most and was essential for her life. After running away from Aci Castello, she had lived in Rome for a short period of time, where she worked in a fast food restaurant, then she went looking for a quieter place. She got a place in Capodimonte, a little town fairly close to Viterbo, on the Bolsena lake. That beautiful lake, with its two islands looking like two watchmen, had caught her attention from the first time, casting a spell on her right away.

It was getting late. It was time for Greta to go home. Before doing that, though, she needed to drop in at notary De Fusco, her employer, to collect some paperwork that she had to hand over to the owner of one of the two islands of the Bolsena lake, the Bisentina island. She was excited because the next day she was going to go to that island by boat. It had sparked interest in her since the first time she saw it; she was going to see for herself if what she heard about it was true.