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Summary
The static never truly stopped.
It breathed through the speakers even when every channel lay empty. Mercer had grown used to it over the years. The sound became a part of the lighthouse itself—like the wind moaning through stairwells or waves collapsing against the cliffs below. Sometimes he imagined the island slept beneath it. Sometimes he imagined the static was the island dreaming.
In which a lonely lighthouse keeper loses himself in the endless hum of the sea.
Series
- Part 4 of oneshots