I would like to tell you how it all began, how I eventually became a special agent.
     When I was living in Stuttgart and studying art, my flatmate and I enjoyed taking long walks through the city to explore everything. Almost every day, we would walk around for hours without any real destination, or so it seemed. We soon knew every corner, every stone. If something was unusual or repeated itself, we noticed it immediately. About once a week, ridiculously expensive Ferraris and Lamborghinis would park in front of the pizzeria on our street. It was the regularity that gave it away. We started investigating and discovered that the Italian Mafia did indeed have a branch in Stuttgart. (Ciau ciau) There was also an Italian delicatessen on our street. We decided to keep an eye on both. Everything in the shop seemed to be past its sell-by date, covered in dust, with products from 30 years ago sitting on the shelves as if it were perfectly normal. But the shop opened punctually at 8 o‘clock every day – behind the counter sat a very old Italian woman who only stood up when someone came in. She was very taciturn – she just seemed to be serving her time. She never tidied anything up or restocked anything, as normal shopkeepers would do. There were also never any special offers or notices.
     The shop had an incredibly strange atmosphere. The door was always ajar... half open, no welcome sign. We observed it for months, but never went inside – we just couldn‘t, it was like an invisible barrier of fear. I would take photos with my camera, on film at the time, and noticed, that young Italian men seemed to go to the shop regularly. The thing was: They never bought anything! My flatmate, let‘s call her Agent A., thought, a good next step would be to gather more information from the inside. After a while of silent thinking she said:
     “You’re young and pretty, why don’t you try to get together with one of the young Italians, they will like you, you look very Italian anyways, they won’t suspect anything!” At first, I wanted to protest, tried to think of a better strategy, tried to structure the possibilities in my head.
     I replied: „Why don‘t we order some pizza? I can‘t think properly when I‘m hungry.“
     The pizzeria was located on the corner of our street, which crossed the main road. Google reviews say:
     “Authentic pizza made in a stone oven with great ingredients. Consistently delicious pastas and fish dishes. Been there 10 times over the years and always impressed with the price-performance ratio. Good wines too for reasonable prices.”
     The building was made of light-coloured brick and had large arched windows. Whenever you walked past, you were greeted by the familiar smell of garlic. We had a small veranda in our flat from which you could constantly recognise this smell. Looking back, I think that subconsciously influenced me the entire time. I spent the whole night thinking: I have a unicorn tattooed on my left forearm – what if it‘s too conspicuous? What if they start talking about „the unicorn girl“ within their structures and have me watched day and night?
     In the weeks that followed, I was very busy with art academy and Agent A. with her acting studies. We didn‘t really come up with a concrete plan for how to proceed. One day in late autumn, we were doing our usual tour of the city. The air was filled with excited molecules. Damp and heavy. I breathed and felt uncertainty. The roads were wet and reflected the car headlights – I could also tell you about better times. But that was also around the time when the letter from headquarters arrived.
     At this point, I should also mention that I have a very unusual talent: I can see well. And by that I don‘t mean that I can see particularly far or that I have particularly sharp vision. I can perceive the world in a special way. Nothing escapes me. I often thought to myself: that‘s what makes you the perfect eyewitness. I can even see so well that I can manifest things. Whenever I need a particular item, I just have to scan through all the places in my mind. When I go for my next walk, it appears in the place where I suspect it might be. This time I also noticed something, but something I had never encountered before. Not of Earth, perhaps
of the coming —
     I said to Agent A: “I can feel it, there’s something ahead of us, a sort of catastrophe, a loud or a silent one, we have to think of a plan how to escape, we can’t stay here I fear.”          But despite everything, I also had the feeling that I was wrong. I went inside and looked at our backyard, at the moving leaves. I stared into the distance for at least an hour. The world seemed desaturated to me, stripped of colour. Suddenly, I saw a black and white cat scurrying across the grass. I had never seen a cat in our backyard before. When I looked closer, I saw that it moved so awkwardly, as if it had been born that day. As if it had smelled the wind for the first time. It moved with such caution, as if it knew that I was watching over it a few metres above - Like an agent who doesn‘t want to be seen.
     At that moment, I noticed Agent A. standing behind me. “I think the cat noticed us.“          The next day, we decided to continue observing the shop, as we had been instructed. I stood there under the pretext of wanting to check my hair in the window; it‘s always a bit tricky with curls. As I looked through my reflection, I saw a watermelon among all the old products. A large, fresh watermelon. “If anyone asks, say that you study art and that you‘re interested in the subject for your photographs.” Agent A. reminded me. “Tomorrow we have to go in, or at least one of us does; we can also send someone ahead.”
     My boyfriend at the time would always disappear and then suddenly reappear. He was actually the perfect candidate for this. He had a talent for disappearing anyway, so no one would notice if he suddenly vanished. Even his family wouldn‘t ask about him until a few days had passed.
     I called him on a secure line and described the situation - Of course, I didn‘t tell him how it was, but how it appeared to be. I knew how it was, but he couldn‘t know that under any circumstances.
     “Be like a dandelion in the cracks in the pavement, as if you had always been there.”          Back home, Agent A. and I read through the letter again. Communication only by typewriter. Use codenames. Please encode replies. Payment after successful completion of the orders, submit the final report on time. Everything had to be done by the first of May. After a while, I said:
     “I have Big Band practice tomorrow evening, we have to send T. there in the afternoon. Should he wear a hidden camera or is it enough for now?”
     The words in the letter did something to me. Because they meant something. Some words have power over you, can control you, can intrude your life—Do you know that feeling when you feel like you‘re someone special?
      Someone like no other. Someone who has been chosen. I was never able to distinguish right from wrong. Making decisions is pretty simple. From then on, everything I did was secret. But it was good to do something useful. I was very lost on my path as an artist anyway.
     But you know, they also allow books in prison, so –