• Enrique A. Cordero

The romanticized version of a writer’s life…

Updated: Mar 5

The small, white-washed cottage, filled with the ghostly remnants of the past, stands alone overlooking the coast. In the distance, you hear the hypnotic lullaby of the sea and the cacophony of the seagulls. The afternoon light is slowly fading, and the thin curtains are gently swaying in the breeze. A weathered wooden table facing the window is stacked with books, articles, and notes—a laptop and a freshly brewed cup of coffee remain unattended.

There he sits, lost in thought for long hours, looking through his wire-rimmed glasses out the window that overlooks the coastal bluffs. He gazes through hooded eyelids and is drawn into the scenery and sounds of the seashore. Slowly, this world begins to fade as he enters the imaginary landscape of his mind—and the once freshly-brewed coffee is long forgotten.