Where the sandspit ends and the harbour channel begins, the Lonely Little Lighthouse sat weathered and beaten by time. Neglected, her paint peeling, she was quietly decaying, falling piece by piece into the sea... The Lonely Little Lighthouse remembers. She remembers the cool chill of foggy nights, when she sang loudly to warn passing ships of her rocky shores. She remembers the billowing sails of schooners, the proud majesty of naval vessels--and even the flags of pirate ships! She remembers the lightkeeper, who once kept her company, and kept her light shining. And most of all, she remembers the sounds of children's laughter, as they played on her sandy beach. It has been years since her light shone, or her foghorn sang.
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