[ Marisol, a tiny longhaired calico, sits on a narrow ledge above the piano keyboard. She’s looking around, eyes wide, ears and whiskers perked forward. ]
What’s this? A very smol Marisol on the piano?
Turns out the piano is just part of the high road, and Marisol has a Destination!
[ Marisol has her hind legs on the speaker that’s between the piano and the door to the porch. One forepaw is on the doorknob, the other is on the deadbolt latch, and she’s looking intently out the window onto the porch. ]
It’s a precarious perch, but she’s perfectly comfortable taking her sweet time to look around.
[ She’s looking off to the left now, past the door and into the corner of the room. There’s a couch over there, and I bet there was a cat doing SOMETHING on the couch. ]
But wait! Could it be that someone is taking pictures of her!
[ She’s turned her head further, so she’s almost-but-not-quite looking at the camera with wide eyes. ]
… what?
