The Lighthouse Without a Keeper

Sailors spoke of a lighthouse that shone even through the thickest fog, long after the town that built it was abandoned. No one had seen a keeper there in generations.

When a researcher named Isla investigated, she found the lantern glowing without oil, without flame — pulsing softly, like a heartbeat.

As she climbed the tower, she heard whispers in the wind: names, songs, fragments of memories. At the top, she found dozens of small glass jars — each containing a faint shimmer of light.

The climax: One jar had her name on it. When she opened it, the glow entered her chest, and the lighthouse went dark for the first time in a hundred years. But out at sea, a new light began to shine.