short fiction · 2026-10-31

The Lighthouse Keeper's Ledger

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

The sea does not keep receipts. Elias learned this the winter the supply boat failed to arrive, and he burned the furniture to keep the light turning. He wrote it down anyway: Three chairs. The writing desk his father built. The crate of novels he never read. The flame ate them all without preference.

In the ledger's margin, a different hand had scribbled: The light is not for the ships. The light is for the keeper.

Elias traced the words with a fingertip blackened by soot. Outside, the beam swept the dark water, faithful as a heartbeat. He added a final line: Tonight I am the fuel.