The lighthouse keep sailed towards the tall phallic structure from his small cottage in disbelief: his had assistant left the beacon unlit, inviting havoc to all those sailing without knowledge of the subtle danger that this cove carries with it. The thickness of the fog was palpable as it settled and the keep rowed as fast as he could with one hand and one hook. He had told his young apprentice day after day to check the oil levels in the lamp before leaving for the night. So when the master looked out of his quiet seaside window expecting the blinding light of the beacon to reveal all the world had to offer and saw darkness, he became immediately incredulous with his page's dimwittery and scurried out of his door to attempt to rescue the situation.
VERSUS
Young bill watched from the lighthouse with a nervous air about himself. He clutched the cold rail with such vigor that he had to change grips every minute or two to let the blood return to his fingertips. He stared down into the black abyss, feeling as if he were a sentry watchman, posted to guard the edge of the world. He stood below the lifeless head of the lighthouse, seeing for the first time what true darkness felt like. He let loose his grip once more, and he heard the softest and most subtle sound he had ever heard. A mere whisper, yet a still distinguishable "thud" rang from the watery depths below. He knew that they had finally arrived.
What does this photo make YOU think of?
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