The stories I could tell you, passerby, are full of mystery and intrigue.
They include rooftop walks and quiet negotiations with the wind. Birds whispering secrets the universe would rather keep to itself. Philosophical debates with the moon — which I, of course, always win.
I could get up and turn this wall into a stage. I could give you that look — the one that suddenly makes people question the meaning of life. But you see, I’m currently occupied with something far more important: allowing the world to revolve around me while I lie here.
So it’s not a lack of material. It’s the effort. Getting up. Stretching. Flicking my tail. And that, as you might agree, is already dangerously close to work. Besides, the sky is particularly bright today, and the stone is exactly the right temperature.
My black-and-white coat, by the way, is not just a genetic lottery, but a visual manifesto: black to absorb the wisdom of the sun, white to reflect unnecessary questions. Together — to look effortlessly stylish, even in a state of complete enlightenment.
So leave me be and go on your way, passerby. Philosophy, in case you didn’t know, is best absorbed horizontally.
Silently. Preferably with your eyes closed.
...
...
P.S. Inspired by a visit to the Old Town of Rhodes.
