What did it do to deserve this? There’s no explanation. Just the star itself, unadorned, accusatory, the sole record of any visitor’s presence. Did the reviewers’ ship run aground in the night, leaving the star behind as a curse for failing at such a basic duty? Were they planning to use its scenic bands of red and white brick as a backdrop for their wedding photos, only to be told the surrounding beach was closed to preserve the nesting grounds of endangered seabirds, but also one of them was sleeping with the photographer, so really the whole expedition out there would have been a colossal waste of time, like their entire fucking relationship? Or was it something more philosophical, an objection to the very idea of a lighthouse, a disdain stretching all the way back to the Alexandrian pharos? Let what is lost stay lost. Let those foolish enough to come close to us be torn asunder. When darkness falls, let it be absolute.
My gaze flips from my phone to the shore. Then I place thumbs to glass and offer what little I can: it’s fine. Five stars.