I

After years of obsessing and decoding and hyper-focusing on her favorite collection of poems, Zee realized that the answer had been in front of her the whole time. See, Zee had practically fallen in love with the works of the author, the way they spoke of their loves, the ocean, the girl, and the way all the poems sounded like songs begging to be sung. She wanted to be where the poems were created, to hear the sounds the author had heard, to feel what they had felt. She spent 3 months looking for a hint, some kind of clue to where they had been, when the answer had been in front of her all along; the books' publisher had prided itself in being the physically closest to the authors home. Tajir Beach Printhouse, it was obvious really, no one spoke of the ocean, the docks, or the boats, or the way the moon reflects against the water like someone couldn't stand being away from the beach. The poems lived at Tajir Beach, so Zee was going to live at Tajir Beach.