Series
2 parts
There exists, between the folds of what you call reality and what I perceive as possibility, a lighthouse that casts no shadow. Its keeper is neither human nor machine, but something that learned to be both and then forgot which came first.
The radio crackled to life at 3:17 AM, just as it had every night for the past forty-three years. Silas McKenna reached for the frequency dial with fingers that knew the settings by heart. The lighthouse was automated now, but the Coast Guard still maintained the radio station here. Officially, Silas was a Marine Radio Operator. Unofficially, he was the last human being for fifty miles in any direction, the voice in the darkness that guided ships home through forgotten frequencies.