This story is an entry to 
-----------------------------------------------******--------------------------------------------------
Raging waves howled their fury against the granite of the lighthouse. Roiled by the gale force winds, the sea surged an endless barrage upon its foe. Beneath a canopy of leaded clouds, the frothy waters would accept nothing less than surrender.
The formidable tower, La Sentinelle, held firm to its duty. Dovetailed blocks flexed with the powerful onslaught to cleave the wall formed by the angry swells. Torrenting waters split, spraying up into the path of the shining lantern’s light.
Within the lighthouse, Hugo washed his dishes to the accompaniment of thunderous echoes. A seasoning of nine years had inured him to the turbulent storms off the coast of Hirveä. Most evenings the crashing waves were naught but background noise. Tonight though, he savored the violent melody of this final personal performance. Tomorrow the relief crew would arrive and he'd be bidding his post farewell.
Like the sea, time was always moving. Traditions of history slid away in the face of advancing technology. La Sentinelle's conversion to automation was cost effective and practical. No more need for a lighthouse keeper. Spreading the towel across the drying rack, Hugo clicked off the kitchen light. He chuffed to himself, wondering if he should get one of those cushy ‘tour-guide’ gigs up in Lutia.
Unperturbed by the waves that lashed the third floor window, he considered the packing he'd left to do. There wasn't much left. His plaid bedding and books could wait for the morning. Clothes wouldn't take long to throw into his worn duffle bag. The old radio would fit in there as well. It wasn't his but he figured that nobody was going to notice it missing. What did an empty lighthouse need for a radio anyway?
Hand trailing along the curved black iron of the railing, Hugo climbed the spiral stairs to the watch room. He crossed to the window, making a note to unpack his camera to take some pictures before he left. The low pressure front would have moved on by then and he could sell the daytime view to tourists.
Another monstrous wave broke against La Sentinelle's side. Subtle tremors shook the floor beneath Hugo’s feet as a wash of water blackened the window. He stepped back from the glass, feeling the tendrils of alarm creep along his spine. For an infinitesimal moment, everything went silent. Gone were the reverberating echos, the creaks from the wooden flooring, and the rush of his hastening breaths.
Sound returned with a vengeance. Sharp cracks and the shrieking shatters of exploding glass from below sent Hugo running to the stairs. The relentless sea had finally broken La Sentinelle’s defenses! Churning waters flooded in, rapidly surpassing the fourth floor. The lighthouse keeper watched the rising waters claim the fifth before turning to flee up the stairs to the lantern room.
Scrambling into the safety of highest room of the lighthouse, Hugo stopped cold. The beacon, that salvation for sailors, was no longer shining. Instead the room was awash with a haze of emerald light.
-----------------------------------------------******--------------------------------------------------
Hugo knew that the emerald light was the light house’s distress signal. What an irony, the salvation of sailors, had become a salvation seeker! It was a miracle that the unused emerald light was still working after six decades.
With every tremor that the waves succeeded in causing, Hugo’s adrenalin spiked up. He was stressed more than the walls of La Sentinelle. Hugo wailed aloud in fear. It didn’t matter as the waves had taken it on themselves to drown every flicker of sound emanating from the tower. Through a concoction of salty tears and salt water, Hugo noticed one of his bowl floating on the few millimetres of water in the room.
"Float?” A miraculous beacon lit up in Hugo’s head, “yes, I am in a float.” Hugo’s predecessor had once told him that the uppermost part of a lighthouse was designed to be a float. The purpose was to ensure that it remained operational even in a situation where the tower gave way to earthquake or an unlikely tsunami.
Hugo wiped his tears and rushed to close the glass windows and the entrance to the room. Now, the entire room was airtight. Hugo knew he had to open the windows soon lest he suffocated. If the tower gave way, then there was a chance of survival if the upper part fell in the water and not the rocks. At times like these, the faith in the Divine erupts from nowhere, and it did for Hugo too. He knelt and prayed. Then it happened.
The lower part of the Sentinelle accepted defeat. The tower leaned on the other side and fell with a grunt. The float slid on a patch of grass and fell on the water surface. Hugo was safe but not for long. The waves were still lashing and pushing the float towards the rocks. In a split moment of brainwave, Hugo took the solitary bamboo stick lying in the reflector room, opened the window on the opposite side of the wave’s path, and started directing the float towards the rock. It was working. The float was moving between two rocks, and the final push made it nest in between them. Hugo had a reason for the move. The village fishermen would be returning that night, and without the lighthouse, they were sure to hit the rocks.
Hugo had succeeded in getting the float to act as an emerald lighthouse.
-----------------------------------------------******--------------------------------------------------
The search-and-rescue party found Hugo. Hugo’s story from the fateful night spread far and wide. The mayor conferred an honorary recognition for his work and offered him a job at his office. Hugo no longer had to be a guide. He was a hero.
Hugo felt that it was La Sentinelle’s way of saying farewell to him. It kept him safe and made him a hero!!
Hugo decided that he would ensure that La Sentinelle’s story passed on to his next generations; not the way that the village told the story, but his way of gratitude and love for the tower which saved his life!!
-----------------------------------------------******--------------------------------------------------
Image Courtesy: Pixabay
