Kittieback-ride

(Italian for ‘the blues’)

Got my hands on tickets to Sweden today. August. Beaches. White nights. And crayfishes from China.

The straycat outside, who eats ants, seemed worried about this;
I was squatting, while smoking, when he came by parking himself right underneath me as if he wanted me to take a ride on his back.
An invitation to go see his world, in- and out of the bushes, instead. Perhaps. But with a body built on an ant-diet I had my doubts could he support my weight. Also, he’s a cat.
I politely declined the offer, for now, but at least he’s not ignoring me anymore.

One day we’ll go for a ride, Anty.