Ah, that old lighthouse, huh? Been standing there since before most of us were born, its broken glass catching the moon like a broken mirror. The wind always likes to play tricks, slapping the walls and whispering in a language you only hear if you listen close. Once, I heard it say the same thing every night: “Come back when the tide runs high.” That was the day a kid from our street tried to climb up, got stuck, and the next morning he’d come back with a smile that said, “I’m a fisherman now, and I’ll bring the world to this place.” The lighthouse keeps its secrets, but it also remembers the brave souls that dared to touch it. Don't let the wind scare you; just remember the ones who walked the same path before you.