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  • Paula Brandao

Arabelle - The lighthouse


It was a morning of October, the leaves were still colouring the paths that lead to the oceanfront, due to the strong wind from the previous week. Arabelle could hear the seagulls squawking from afar while preparing the coffee in the machine. The scent of the roasted coffee beans filled the kitchen, reminding her of her dreams and duties. She, however, was concentrated on the outside; her thoughts and gestures revealed her anxiety for the life to come.

Arabelle pampered herself by sipping a homemade coffee and, right after it, she carefully wore a light pink coat that was placed at the back of the access door. Her two sisters were upstairs packing as they would be heading to the north of the country that afternoon. Arabelle opened the back door and walked along the deck so to reach the wooden stairs that would take her to the beach. Before reaching the shore, she gazed admiringly at the lighthouse on the other side of the beach. A cheerful feeling brought a smile to her face as she saw the lighthouse light blinking from time to time, directing the boats that scarcely passed far from shore, but in front of the small town where she belonged. The lights reminded her from a time when she was always accompanied by dreams of her childhood. Arabelle and her sisters would go up to the top of the lighthouse to help their father, a strong and wise lighthouse keeper. Arabelle would walk up step by step many times, joyfully singing a favourite song or just counting the steps referring them to the years she would like to live as a grown person.

A noise distracted from her thoughts and she kept strolling until she reached the seashore, letting her feet to be soaked by the foam coming from the warm sea water. There was no other feeling but peace. Her smile unveiled the satisfaction of being there, now for good, altogether with the love of her life, a smart man that would join her soon, after returning from the hustle and bustle of the big city. They both aspired for the calmness of sapphire sea and the tranquility of walking barefoot late in the afternoon.

A voice called Arabelle from far, awakening her from her thinking. It was her young sister. She needed Arabelle’s help and asked her to come back inside as soon as possible.

And after having been lost for some minutes, recalling memories of part of her life, Arabelle went back home, looking at the lighthouse again, certain of her choices and grateful for being back.

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