Sun-Pulled Strings

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ACT 1
In the labyrinthine alleys of Palermo, Sicily, where the scent of olives mingled with the salty sea breeze, there lived a young orphan boy named Santino Draco. At the tender age of eight, Santino had learned to navigate the streets with the stealth of a gatto, slipping from shadow to shadow, unseen by most. His days were spent in a world of make-believe, where reality was harsh and unforgiving. But amidst the poverty and turmoil of 1929 Sicily, Santino found solace in the enchanting art of puppetry. One fateful evening, while lurking in the shadows of a theater, Santino stumbled upon the mesmerizing spectacle of the "Opera dei Pupi" - a renowned puppet show that had captured the hearts of Sicilians for generations. As he watched the colorful marionettes dance across the stage, Santino felt a stirring within his soul. It was as if the strings that controlled the puppets also tugged at his own heart, beckoning him into a world of magic and wonder. From that moment on, Santino's destiny was sealed. He devoted himself wholeheartedly to the craft of puppetry, honing his skills with a fervor that bordered on obsession.

ACT 2
Years passed, and Santino grew into a man of forty-three, his once youthful face grew older, yet satisfying. But despite the passage of time, his passion for puppetry remained as strong as ever. In place of the closed-down planetarium on the outskirts of Palermo, Santino had established his workshop, a sanctuary where he could bring his creations to life. Unlike traditional puppeteers who favored wood for their marionettes, Santino had a different vision. He believed that felt possessed a fluidity and grace that wood could never match, allowing his puppets to move with a lifelike elegance. And so, it was with felt that Santino crafted his most beloved creation - a small puppet named Timoteo il Secondo, named after a valiant knight from the Opera dei Pupi. But as Santino gazed upon his masterpiece, he knew that Timoteo was more than just a puppet. He was a king among his varied creations, a symbol of Santino's undying passion and devotion. "My dear Timoteo," Santino murmured, his fingers gently caressing the puppet's felt features. "You are my finest work, my crowning achievement." With a gentle hand, Santino lifted Timoteo from his perch and set him atop a pedestal, where he gleamed in the soft glow of lamplight. And as the night stretched on, Santino lost himself in the world of his puppets, his heart filled with joy and contentment. For in the kingdom of felt and string, Santino Draco was truly the monarch of his own destiny. For now.

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