Round 2 of 2, with the guided highlight
Marta kept a small boat tied at the end of the old pier. Every Saturday she rowed across the bay to the island where her grandfather had once kept the lighthouse. The light itself had been dark for thirty years, but the tower still stood, white and narrow against the sky. Marta liked to climb the spiral stairs and count them as she went. There were one hundred and twelve steps, and she knew every worn spot along the rail.
From the top she could see the whole bay. Fishing boats moved out toward open water, trailing thin lines of foam. Gulls circled the buoys and called to each other in sharp voices. On clear days she could even see the mainland church, its steeple a small gray needle above the trees.
One morning she found the door at the base of the tower open. Inside, a young man was sketching the staircase in a worn notebook. He explained that he was studying old buildings for the county, making records before the winter storms arrived. Marta showed him the keeper's room, the rusted stove, and the shelf where the logbooks had once been kept. They talked until the tide turned. When she rowed home that evening, the tower caught the last of the sun, and for a moment the glass at the top burned like a lit lamp.