It was in the twilight of Christmas Eve, 1867, when Cyrus Fernsby first caught sight of the tapering square towered lighthouse on Wraith Rock from the large rowing boat which was conveying him to, what was intended to be, a short term keeper posting. As it emerged with evermore clarity from within the Atlantic sea mist, and the spray of the crashing waves which embraced it, an inexplicable and undeniable sense of foreboding began to seize and permeate...
Related Subjects
Poetry