Rosie flew herself to the Alhambra. "Such a Romantic Spot." she mused, " I love the Arabic architecture and the best part of course is the lovely gardens." She stashed her blanket, beach ball and shrimp basket behind a beautifully sculpted bush and went to the Most Perfect School of Flamenco Dance.
What a time she had. Soon Rosie was twirling and stomping with the best of them. She had no need of a fan, her beautius wings gave just the right touch of flirtatiousness. Castanets? who wanted them, she clacked her beak just right. "I could be the queen of Fantasia," she chirped and all the other dancers agreed.
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