The Lighthouse

Weekend Stories by Trishikh

Khurram Kha anxiously glimpsed at the trickling sand in the hourglass. Glanced up towards the night sky, and then gazed at the frothy ivory waves lit up by the moonlight, lashing on the ancient and rugged rocky cliff-shore, on which stood his lighthouse, and finally looked at his daughter standing on the edge of the cliff. She stared at the abyss with a lantern in her hand a few feet away from the wooden monolith.

More than looking out for ships that night, Kha was worried about his daughter perched on the cold stone-cliff in the face of a bone-chilling sea-breeze. The greybeard’s vision was not as sharp as it used to be. Many years of tending to the continuously burning woodfire of the lighthouse lamp had taken its toll on his eyesight. Quite often, he would stumble with faulty depth perception and hence avoided going out or climbing stairs…

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