The Chair by the Fire

The guesthouse stood above the harbour. Its door was on the sheltered side. A sheep kept the house. Polly stood in the hall, wet from the rain. "Do you have any available rooms?"

There were rooms. Polly said, "I would like a quiet room, please." The sheep waited a moment. The wind finds every room here.

"Could you assist me with my luggage, please?" The sheep carried the bag up. She put it by a chair. Its frame was driftwood, because no tree grows here. Its back was straw.

"What time is check-out?" Polly asked. The boat decides everything here. Then she sat in the chair. The straw stopped the cold air.