The Lighthouse Keeper's Last Light
The fog on the Hebridean coast did not lift in the winter of 1887. It hung like a shroud over the headland where the old lighthouse stood, its iron ribs rusted through, its glass panes clouded with salt and time. Thomas MacRae had kept that light burning for thirty years. Thirty years of climbing the spiral staircase, two hundred and fourteen steps, twice every night. Thirty years of watching...
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