GLOWING COAL

The wind howled outside and thrashed itself against the stone walls of the lighthouse. It always sounded more terrifying at night, as though the sun had the gift to keep the wind calm and in the darkness without the sun’s light, the wind would unleash all its fury at the world.

He sat hunched over, staring at the mug in his hands. He slowly swirled it around so that the coffee mimicked the ocean’s swell. He had grown old, his weather-beaten face wrinkled by the salt and hard work.

He was remembering his love, lost long ago to the inevitable tract of time. She was his beacon on long trips at sea, softly calling in his mind, helping him navigate home. He could feel her memory like a glowing coal inside him whilst he sat inside the echoing lighthouse that sat in the middle of the raging winds and the vast, menacing seas.