Sixteen rooms, all with their own name.

The light wakes you, not an alarm.

Mornings smell of coffee and wood here.

Small and just right, like the fish it is named after.

A storm's name, a calm room.

When the wind blows outside, inside it is calm.

Sheets that ask for a siesta and silence to spare.

A warm wind by name, a thick blanket just in case.

The early one: coffee downstairs and the day ahead.

Full of what matters: a big bed, wood, silence.

It slows you down on its own: walk in and you are resting.

Every night you spend here, you like it more.

Two beds and no arguing over who sleeps worse.

Two beds, a cheerful room and space for everything.

Quiet and deep, like a good night's sleep asks to be.

Room for the beds, the backpacks and all the day's stories.

The last light to go out and the first one up.