The lighthouse stood at the edge of the world, or at least the edge...

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2026-06-05 18:03:33 -

The lighthouse stood at the edge of the world, or at least the edge of Cornwall,

The storm that night was the worst in recent memory. The wind screamed through the church lane like a wounded thing. Clara should have been asleep. She was not. She was following lights. Not the lighthouse beam—that swept its predictable arc across the churning sea. These were smaller, stranger, flickering erratically along the cliff path below the church. A person? In this? Madness. But...

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