Coffe

His nose smelled of the aroma of coffee from a small shop on the edge of the pier. Together with the heavy tiredness on his body, he stopped by there. Eighteen hours is a long journey. He was riding a wooden boat belonging to a friend of his friend. The friend also recognized him at a poetry reading event in the capital. Not too close. But his desire to stay away from the crowded city could not stop him from getting acquainted and asking the small city from his friend.
"Only the city died there, there was nothing" said his friend at the time
"I even need things that seem dead to be able to live", he said later
His friend then gave a contact with a friend who had a boat, ⁣
"Contact this friend, he goes to town every week to shop" ⁣
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Right said his friend, the city was quiet. At the coffee shop, he only met a few old men. One of them, a jade widow circling around her finger, offered a temporary residence. He only lives alone and is grateful if this poet is available to accompany him
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The house is a wooden stage house with a small terrace in front, facing the beach with several coconut trees in front of it. The poet immediately fell in love and imagined how many poems would be born on the veranda. The homeowner offers the front room, the poet feels uncomfortable to be so, "This is indeed for guests. It used to belong to my child. I always hoped a friend would come here, like you" said the owner of the house to make the poet relieved.
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Here he is, in a quiet little town. At night he sat drinking coffee with the man who owned the house, then wrote poetry until late. The next morning, he accompanied his old friend to go to sea, go home with some fresh coral fish
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No one knows that the poet in that quiet city is looking for someone. A figure present in the many poems of his friends who met in the capital. A girl, who the poet never knew, in the former girl's room she spent the night until the morning
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