I stood on the beach, looking along the tiny walkway towards the ancient lighthouse. It stood proudly against the incoming tide, the furthest steps already being lapped by waves. The weakened light turned around, a strobing beacon against the oncoming darkness of both nightfall and the storm that already sent its warning breeze. I shivered.
I remembered the letter I had received that morning.
Come to the lighthouse. The one you long for is waiting for you.
There was only one person it could be, the one I wanted all through high school, even after he left for college. He was the one I left home longing for.
Now, I was back to work for the summer. Rumor was he was also around, but I had yet to see him.
But what could he be doing in the lighthouse? It had been closed for years – and for good reason. After the tsunami, there had been little left of the old cladding. People had argued about whether to pull down the lighthouse entirely, but his family had argued that they could get it operational again. Yet, none of them had been seen very much recently. Some thought they had moved away.
As I stood on the shore, the beacon swept around proving that the family had succeeded in restoring the monument to operation.
The wind blew again, lifting my lightweight dress away from my body. I wondered if he was watching me. I had no intention in denying the only one who had ever tempted me before, the only one who had ever persuaded me – on my 16th birthday.
<Come to the lighthouse. I await you,> the words impressed upon my mind.
Bravely, I began the walk across the haphazard causeway, hoping the rocks would hold my weight and not send me into a cold, salty bath. I needed to hurry. The water was beginning to lap at my flip-flops. The tide would be in soon. I would not be leaving the lighthouse for the night, at least. With the approaching storm, it could be longer.
I shivered again. My clothing was doing nothing to protect me from the cold. The wind was picking up and the water froze my toes. There was also the feeling of foreboding, like no one should be in this lighthouse. Maybe it was because of the old woman who used to live there, years ago. Maybe she still remained, in part.
Finally, pushing my cold feet through the water that now covered the narrow path, I reached the steps and walked up to the lighthouse. I knocked timidly, then pushed the stiff door open with a creak.
Inside was a small foyer with several doors leading off one way or another.
“Hello?” I called as I walked along the corridor, brushing cobwebs away from my face as I went. The only noise in reply was the howl of a gust of wind followed by the scurrying of some small furry creature startled by my footsteps.
At the top end of the corridor (for there was a slight uphill slope), was another door. The knob looked shiny, like someone used it frequently. That was the door I decided to open.
I wasn’t surprised to see the staircase spiraling upwards, but the soft gentle harp music descending from somewhere made me wonder.
There was nothing for it, but to ascend the stairs.
“Hello?” I called again. “I was told to come.”
I looked out a window, towards the mainland.
In the fading light, I could just see that the walkway was now well under water. I felt the tiniest feeling of being trapped as fierce waves crashed over a barrier.
Looking up again, I thought I caught movement in a whisp of white, drifting towards a door. I followed, hurrying up the stairs again towards sounds of the harp.
Through the door, I hurried. My breath caught at the elegance furnishings, the lace curtains and a harp playing itself in the corner. The tears came to my eyes instantly. I knew it was him! It had to be!
A moment later, his arms were around me, hugging me close to his body.
“I remembered our little dream – the one we had that night.”
He turned me to face him. Instantly, my lips were on his, arms around him. “I’ve missed you so much!” I cried, then kissed him some more.
“I didn’t realize...” he said, then lifted my dress, his hands running immediately over my body, feeling every part, awakening my desire for him.
I helped him lose his clothing, then leaning back on the soft bed, I pulled him to me.
Our merger was swift and desperate, years of longing melting between our bodies. As we met each other, the wind buffeted the lighthouse and thunder rumbled. Rain and hail pelted down on the roof.
Together we lay, covers over us keeping our warmth together.
“Why did it take so long to be together again?” I asked him. “I have never stopped loving you.”
“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” he replied. “But I never stopped loving you either.”
“What wouldn’t I believe?” I asked.
“I will show you tomorrow. But now, let’s enjoy tonight.”
I snuggled against him, listening to the storm buffeting the lighthouse.
♥
Morning came and the storm still raged. I didn’t want to move, just be with him forever like this.
“Come,” he encouraged, guiding me out of bed again. He handed me my dress, then put his own clothes back on. “Probably better have something on.”
My dress on, I accepted his hand as he led me to another door that I hadn’t seen the previous night. It looked like a small closet, but that didn’t completely make sense as I contemplated the structure of the lighthouse.
The door seemed to open on its own and we stepped through into another room that couldn’t have been in the lighthouse; but there it was. I moved to a whitened window in disbelief. Snow!
He opened the window, letting the brilliant white swirl in on a breeze.
I looked out at the wintry scene below. We were clearly way up in the mountains.
“You asked me where I have been. I couldn’t tell you. I had to show you!”
“This is impossible!” I retorted, feeling the flakes on my face telling me otherwise.
“Welcome to A’mara!”
♥♥♥
Previous Apostrophe freewrites:
Week 1: Greta, Savai, and the Possessed Doll
Week 2: Mad World Reminisce (NSFW)
Week 3: Love: Take Two
Week 4: Letter From Beyond the Veil
Image from Pixabay and selected by 
Apostrophe is a writing pod on Whaleshares. This is a writing/photo prompt or contest from the pod. As usual, I crosspost on Steem, Whaleshares and Hyperspace
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Lori Svensen
author/designer at A'mara Books
photographer/graphic artist for Viking Visual
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