The Lighthouse
As Dolly drove up the narrow dirt track towards the ominous Maine coastline, she observed the dark clouds and hissing wind circling the towering white structure ahead of her on the cliff edge, the fierce wind appearing to chase the clouds around the circular exterior in an aggressive game of chase.
Outside of the hired classic Cadillac, she passed long-forgotten properties with dilapidated exteriors, neglected lawns and battered white picket fencing. Although Dolly could sense the eerie emptiness of the buildings she passed, she could feel a continuous gaze from the broken windows, the town’s soul was still in residence.
Glancing down to her right past the gearshift, lying on a meticulously restored cream leather seat, the metal box sat proudly. She had promised to urgently deliver this menacing box, with all its secrets hidden within, before it was too late. Looking back up towards the road through the windscreen, Dolly brushed a rogue strand of mahogany hair away from her youthful face, clearing her vision.
As Dolly increased her speed, heavy rain started to pelt the beautifully appointed car with a steely determination, the force of the rain pushed back on the fragile aluminium exterior with a might that suggested it knew her mission was a fool’s errand. The sudden and thunderous roar of lightning did little to break her focus; she was just mere minutes away from arriving at her final stop, the old lighthouse.
Passing through the property’s main gates, the track narrowed further upwards with potholes littering the way and making the car bounce along in an erratic manner. Dolly’s stiletto pressed down with force on the brake, bringing the Cadillac to a grinding halt on the pebbled drive, ending its treacherous journey directly outside a porch attached to the small building nestled under the towering structure.
Thankful that she was wearing her heavy fur coat, Dolly stepped out of her cocooned protection into the great forces of Mother Nature, the metal box tucked tightly under her arm. The rain, encouraged by the unforgiving wind, had slanted to an angle, attacking everything with the power of a thousand knives.
With rain falling on to her beautifully painted face, Dolly looked upwards to the top of the shining beacon just in time to see a bolt of lightning attack its tallest point. Her face brightened under the flash of light, showing an expression of steely determination and naïve youth. The teenage girl inhaled a huge breath of air and took her first steps towards the lighthouse.
Written by Chris Coote-Stubbins
