The Little House from the Sea

At night, ships sail by, shining like glowworms on the dark sea. In the autumn, great flocks of screeching starlings and geese fly overhead on their way to warmer places. Even the moon and the clouds pass slowly on, but the little house on the rocky island never moves. All year long, it gazes at the horizon and dreams. Beyond the thin line that divides the ocean from the sky, there must be other worlds. The little house longs to be a ship. Then it could sail to faraway places and explore the other side of the horizon. Perhaps, it thinks, I really am a ship.