Preisha Writes

The frenzied waves shone faintly in the pale moonlight, crests of seafoam crowning each peak. The shrieks and groans of my little boat reminded me of siren cries and I pulled the shoddy blanket over my ears to block the noise out. As the little boat rocked more violently with each shriek, raindrops like crystal needles broke the uniform of the waves.

“Little boat,” I whispered, “Carry me far from this place.”

The siren cries grew louder, and when it seemed that they were close enough to claw at my little boat, a light swept over the navy seascape. I sat up taller, and the illusion of the moon shining brighter and the sirens falling back appeared before me.

Soon, my little boat and I were near enough to the light to see what it was mounted on. A lighthouse, smoothened by turbulent weather stood on a cliff, red and white rings worn like thick wedding bands. Ships were docked at the pier, like medals pinned to the lighthouse that silently boasted: I have guided many to shore.

The light swept over me one last time, warm and steady. I watched the crystal needles of rain vanish into the dark water, safe within the shadow of the giant that had called me home.