First outing: a kiss to a cloud
Spaghetti was born feeling the wind on her muzzle. She stretched her neck up, met a cloud, and kissed it. The cloud blushed. Her mother took pictures. All blurry. Spaghetti says it's better that way: "beauty cannot be photographed, you see".
Reads rooftops the way others read the newspaper
With her neck, Spaghetti sees what no one else sees: the rooftops. She has an opinion on every chimney. "This one is sad." "That one dreams." She keeps an imaginary blog she dictates to seagulls. No one reads it, but the seagulls often nod along.
Teaches tango classes to pigeons
On Tuesday evenings, Spaghetti teaches tango to pigeons on the market square. She always begins with "the head, the head!". One pigeon learned the rumba instead. She politely dismissed him, by letter.
