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#TwitterTales January 2019

Welcome to another month of #TwitterTales. Have you heard of it?

I write a short story based on an image every month. I post it every Thursday and Friday on Twitter with the #TwitterTales. By the end of the month, I have a complete story. Here is January 2019 based on this image:

"You need to leave. I'll stay behind and work the lighthouse," Merv said.

"But the storm," his boss said. The sky darkened and the ocean churned. If the boat didn't leave soon, those on there wouldn't get out alive.

"Don't worry. I got this."

The boat became a speck on the horizon. His friends would be safe, and now he had a job to do.

Merv hurried inside and flipped the switch. No light came on. He ran to turn the generator on and slid over the ledge and into the ocean.

The ocean pulled him out further. Merv didn't dare fight against her since she was strong and vast but could be gentle when she wanted to be.

His lungs burned with need for oxygen. He couldn't do anything until the right moment. His moment never came. Instead, his vision faded to black. He awoke sometime later on the beach. The storm was rampaging.

"The lighthouse," he said after his scrambled thoughts collected. He needed to turn on the light for the ships.

Merv ran and slid his way to the generator. When he got to it, the tank was empty. He had filled it up earlier today after the shipment. The tank for the extra diesel was missing too. He didn't have time to think what the missing fuel meant either.

Merv climbed the five flights to the top of the lighthouse. His breathing was ragged, and his sides hurt. He bent over to try and catch his breath. Once he could move, he grabbed the crank, turning it. No light shined out. He turned it faster.

The light flickered. Merv turned the crank faster, and panic flowed through his body. If he couldn't get the beacon started, a lot of lives would be lost tonight.

Sweat beaded his forehead and dripped into his eyes. He ignored the sting. And cranked.

His arm started to hurt, but he refused to stop cranking. When a beam of light shined into the night. He whooped for joy.

"Why is the lighthouse light on?" a man asked. He and the crew he was with were on a ship at the edge of the storm, monitoring it.

"Years ago when the lighthouse was operational, one of the workers died. Every time there is a storm, the guy turns on the light," the captain said.

"Is the US government claiming ghosts exist?"

"Never. We marked the island as radioactive."

And that is the end of the tale for this month. I do enjoy my twist endings. You can also find other tales by a few authors just search for #TwitterTales and then pick an author and search for their account and #TwitterTales. I've numbered mine.

Here is the preview for February 2019:

Rob stared at his monitor and sipped his black coffee. Real men drank the tar this way. None of the creamer or junk added.

His job was simple, watch the track and make sure the blips (the trains) didn't run into each other. One disappeared.

-Have a great day. K.A.

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