Wandering around the City of the Writers. End up seating in a square with white parasols, looking at a beautiful neo-classical facade. In the table next to mine three girls chat and one of them, heavy suntan or light dark-skinned, is drawing something. After the obese green olives and the guilt-inducing patatas, I risk a glance at the drawing. It's Arabic calligraphy !
A short-legged dog, 1/8 cocker spaniel and 7/8 unspecified canine DNA, makes his appearance in the square, with the blind energy of a Logroño bull erupting in the arena. The Calligraphic Girl stands up and engages in football playing with the mongrel. Her neighbors leave. After some tail-wagging soccer she returns to the table and asks the bill. Collecting her art writings she waves a goodbye to the piercing-studded camarero: "Ciao, Habibi!".