short fiction · 2026-10-13

The Lighthouse Keeper's Last Light

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

On the cliff's edge, the lighthouse stood silent, its lantern cold for years. Yet each night, a faint glow seeped from the cracked glass, not from oil or wick, but from the keeper's lingering thoughts. He had watched storms swallow ships, heard the sea whisper names of the lost, and now his mind lingered in the beam's sweep. The light remembered the weight of his boots on the spiral stairs, the scent of salt and rust, and the quiet promise he made to keep the shore safe. Even abandoned, the tower hummed with his steadfast heart, a beacon of duty that refused to fade.