Juan J. Morales The Lighthouse Dream

My father is at the top of the lighthouse. He’s having a heart attack, and I must save him. In my mind, where my waking hovers, a voice is telling me, “We’ve already lost him.” I’m crying, in denial, and rushing up the coiling staircase. I unlock the large door by turning a huge, round wheel to depressurize the room. The door hisses wide open to where my dad rests in a hospital bed, in the shadow of the giant lens and lantern. I pick him up and he pulls his arms around my neck. I hold him as the top of the lighthouse opens to a street full of people, reaching out hands to carry him to safety. I keep bawling and refuse their help, insisting I bring my father up and onto the peaceful street by myself. Once he is protected, the voice wakes me back into the night.


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