The world’s not that big. 
Sure, 
it can take a while 
to get from one side to the other, 
but that don’t make it big. 
The only thing that makes it 
big, 
are the people in it. 
The ones who strive for a 
happy life, 
a simple life. 

He would sell coconuts on the 
side of the road, 
the Pan-American highway to be exact. 
On the border of Ecuador 
he would see the various faces of the world 
drive by. 
Some would even stop for the green, 
hollow things stacked up on his plastic table.
It was from a rickety old chair 
his grandpa had once sat on, 
where he would watch
it all pass by. 
He had never strayed too far from the 
four legged, wooden thing, 
lay between his legs.
Too afraid he’d find the edge of the 
world and fall off. 
Grandpa would always say, 
	“Come back soon Nestor, 
and for goodness sake make sure you 
	don’t fall off.” 
Everyone used to think he was crazy, 
	they’d chuckle when he would 
mention anything about the edge. 
Soon enough 
	the same people who laughed 
headed off in search for another 
corner of the earth, 
never to be seen again. 
no letters, 
no messages, 
no nothing. 
Soon people stopped laughing, 
their ears pricking up every time the old 
man would start 
	spouting wisdom. 
People laugh at what they don’t 
understand. 
	I used to do the same back then 
and maybe too much even now. 
However since he passed 
I stick to the chair, 
	the coconuts before me 
and stay well away from that edge. 
The world is smaller 
	than its own stories. 
The world is smaller 
	Without Grandpa and his chair.