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Promethean
Planetoid
- Joined
- Jul 23, 2024
Arcadia Bay was truly something special, there wasnt much to be special, yet that was apart of the charm. Northern California, away from the bustling life and energy of the rest of the state. Here, along the coast, a small crabbing community lives the quiet life. Its where Arthur Sterling grew up, unknowing this small town would be the start of his career in literature. Although there are some who wouldnt call his writing literature. It did however take him across the world, yet here he was...back in his hometown. The divorce hit Arthur hard, lost the wife, lost the kid, gave up the house. Rather than live in the empty nest all alone. Arcadia was just as he remembered, but also...different. Times were changing, the crabbing operations were shut down, many workers without work. An automotive dealership opened up on the outside of town, then there's this real estate group thats buying up lots of land, replacing yards with parking spots for their new subdivisions, and even the lighthouse was sold out. Once it represented the livelihood of town, the ships depended on it, the people always looked to it, it represented this little place. Now, with no ships to guide in, the lighthouse stood as an AirBnB after a fire left it in rough shape, fixed up just well enough to support one bedroom under a glass ceiling, a bathroom with a sink toilet and shower, no tub. And a living space with a sofa against one wall, perpendicular to the sliding glass door to the balcony at the top of the lighthouse, overlooking...everything. Opposite of the couch, against the bedroom wall, was a small half circle table with two chairs beneath it. There was one electrical outlet in the entire lighthouse and both slots were being used. One by the Fridge beside the doorway, and one for the stove beside the counter against the fridge. No microwave, no light switches, no tv, no wifi, no signal. Just....this....
For two whole months Arthur had the place rented out all to himself, his first week he spent frequently going into town and reliving old times, his next week was spent on the balcony overlooking the shoreline...overlooking the sea...the waves. The balcony was just below the dome-tip where the light once shined brightly out onto the sea, a circular walkway going around the circumference of the lighthouse. Here, he spent many many hours in his own head. After a week of reflecting, he attempted to put pen to page, but nothing came to him. Maybe his critics were right, maybe it was time for him to retire. What more does he have to offer the world, he should just buy a small house out here and spend the rest of his days seaside....
When week 4 came of his getaway, dark clouds came rolling in from the ocean. The waves roared and the sky cracked, thunder like drums in the night sky, lightning the only source of light as it flashes by. Nightly Arthur would have his candles lit for some dim lighting, yet this storm made even the candle fire look gone. When morning came, it was worse. The sun was hidden behind a sea of gray in the sky, clouds were black, the ocean was gray, overlooking the town from the balcony Arthur could see streets flooded, people sitting on top of their cars fishing, up on this hill the rain wasnt collecting as bad, no flooding, but the roads were far too dangerous for anyone to enter, or leave town. Arthur was trapped here, nothing he wasnt planning on being, but not like this....
Catching his eye, a lone vehicle traveling up the hill, as if they were leaving town but had gotten caught in the storm. They wouldnt make it very far, Arthur watched for moments, but then the car had pulled to the side. Right beside his car. Rushing down the long spiral stairs of the lighthouse, he casts off his rain jacket and makes it to the door in time to hear the thud of hard knocking, opening it he sees two very beautiful young ladies. Without introduction, he gestures them in, locking the door behind them.
For two whole months Arthur had the place rented out all to himself, his first week he spent frequently going into town and reliving old times, his next week was spent on the balcony overlooking the shoreline...overlooking the sea...the waves. The balcony was just below the dome-tip where the light once shined brightly out onto the sea, a circular walkway going around the circumference of the lighthouse. Here, he spent many many hours in his own head. After a week of reflecting, he attempted to put pen to page, but nothing came to him. Maybe his critics were right, maybe it was time for him to retire. What more does he have to offer the world, he should just buy a small house out here and spend the rest of his days seaside....
When week 4 came of his getaway, dark clouds came rolling in from the ocean. The waves roared and the sky cracked, thunder like drums in the night sky, lightning the only source of light as it flashes by. Nightly Arthur would have his candles lit for some dim lighting, yet this storm made even the candle fire look gone. When morning came, it was worse. The sun was hidden behind a sea of gray in the sky, clouds were black, the ocean was gray, overlooking the town from the balcony Arthur could see streets flooded, people sitting on top of their cars fishing, up on this hill the rain wasnt collecting as bad, no flooding, but the roads were far too dangerous for anyone to enter, or leave town. Arthur was trapped here, nothing he wasnt planning on being, but not like this....
Catching his eye, a lone vehicle traveling up the hill, as if they were leaving town but had gotten caught in the storm. They wouldnt make it very far, Arthur watched for moments, but then the car had pulled to the side. Right beside his car. Rushing down the long spiral stairs of the lighthouse, he casts off his rain jacket and makes it to the door in time to hear the thud of hard knocking, opening it he sees two very beautiful young ladies. Without introduction, he gestures them in, locking the door behind them.