Microfiction
The Last Lighthouse
Maria peered at the fading sun, her wrinkled hands holding the railing of the lighthouse balcony. She had watched over these waters for 70 years, and tonight would be her last. The administration had eventually chosen to automate the ancient beacon. They dubbed it "progress." Maria declared it the end of an era. She reflected on all the storms she'd weathered and the ships she'd safely steered to harbor. The nights were spent polishing the large lens until it sparkled like a star brought down from the heavens. A gull's call awakened her from her trance. Maria grinned, recognizing the ancient bird she had named Charlie. He had been visiting her for nearly a decade. "Well, Charlie," he responded, "looks like we're both relics of a bygone age." Charlie landed on the railing beside her, cocking his head curiously. Maria chuckled. "Do not worry, old friend. I've instructed them to keep putting out feed for you." The sun dropped lower, illuminating the sky in vivid oranges and pinks. It wouldn't be long until it was time to turn off the lamp. Maria's joints creaked as she moved down the spiral staircase. Each stride felt heavy with memories. How many times did she climb these stairs? Thousands and thousands. At the base of the tower, she took a moment to run her hand along the cool stone walls. They had been her steady companions all these years, protecting her from the wind and waves. Maria lit the lights and began turning the large lens with experienced ease. As darkness descended, the bright beam raced across the sea, providing a constant pulse in the gathering night. She returned to the balcony and sat in her favorite chair for her final vigil. The stars appeared one by one, and old friends gathered to bid her farewell. As midnight came, Maria noticed the coast guard cutter appear on the horizon. They were exactly on time. She stood up, stretching her muscles that had become stiff from sitting. One last look at the vista she'd grown to appreciate, as well as her own face. "Goodbye, old girl," Maria said softly, caressing the lighthouse wall. "You've served us well." She then packed her few possessions and walked down to where the boat was waiting. As Maria boarded, she turned for one last look. The lighthouse loomed tall and majestic against the star-filled sky, its beam sweeping steadily out to sea. Charlie sat atop the railing. Maria swears the elderly gull nodded at her before expanding his wings and taking off into the night. The cutter's engines started up. Maria's gaze remained fixated on the fading light as they moved away from the shore. Long after it had vanished from sight, she could still see it in her mind's eye: timeless, unshakable, a beacon of hope in the dark.
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By Rony Sutradar2 years ago in Fiction
