Stolen ved ilden

Pensionatet lå over havnen. Døren var på læsiden. Et får drev huset. Polly stod i entreen, våd af regn. "Har I nogen ledige værelser?"

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?"

Der var værelser. Polly sagde: "Jeg vil gerne have et roligt værelse, tak." Fåret ventede et øjeblik. Vinden finder alle værelser her.

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

"Kunne du hjælpe mig med min bagage, tak?" Fåret bar tasken op. Hun satte den ved en stol. Stellet var af drivtømmer, for der vokser ingen træer her. Ryggen var af halm.

"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.

"Hvornår er der udtjekning?" spurgte Polly. Båden bestemmer alt her. Så satte hun sig i stolen. Halmen holdt den kolde luft ude.

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