Sandy Fatigue lies under overcast skies by the sea. Consistent temperatures in the mid-70s and high humidity hang over the beaches unbroken by rain or storm.
Visitors come to sleep on the beach and meander up and down, down and up the shoreline picking up shells, turning them over and sighing as they toss them back into the ocean.
The waves wash in and out, in and out.
“What did you do in Fatigue?" Alobar asks Doe.
"I sat beside the sea," she writes. "There wasn’t much good to eat, but I was never very hungry.”
"Everyone likes the beach," says the Guide.
Fatigue is proud of its beaches When the rare rain comes visitors sleeping on the sand get very wet.
“Don’t worry you’ll dry off soon enough,” the Guide says.
Denizens live in tiny houses back among the sand dunes or on the open sea in houseboats.
Gulls fly over Fatigue. Sandpipers run along it. Whales watch from the shore.
The large lighthouse Uselessness sits on a rocky outcropping. A family lives there and tends it. When a decision needs to be made everyone will ask this family their opinions, after all they are the ones keeping watch.
The Lady Lightkeeper goes to the top of the tower and makes sure the light beacon shines prominently and points at the correct angle. She looks out the window at the open sea and the few boats in the distance.
None of the boats ever follow the light to Fatigue. They steer clear of it. Sailors avoid Fatigue and Uselessness.
"One only ends up here if they crash," says the Guide.
Still, the Lightkeepers get up each day and don the uniforms of Uselessness. They check the weather reports and the angle of the light and tidy and repair everything. They clean the yard around the lighthouse and rake the sand.
They watch the visitors walking up and down the beach and wave at passersby. The Fatigued returns their greetings languidly.
Comments
Post a Comment