Portugese Surf Check.
Rooster wakes me up.
Walk across farm. Farmer is up early harvesting. Crops look good.
Turn right at the church. The bells are silent.
Stroll down alley. Thongs slapping on the cobblestones. Someone is arguing in one of the apartments.
Turn left at the well. The well is dry.
The green door. Only a hobbit could fit through it. Nearly there.
Run my fingers along green tiles. The touch is cool.
Hmmm. Flat today. Go for a swim.
Portugese tart for breakfast. Maybe waves tomorrow … check back.