Lighthouse

It would’ve been high school all over again, save for the fact that they were old now and time had settled on faces and haunches alike. Ivane sipped her cocktail (careful with it - intending to make it something celebratory and shift her energy). “To survival,” she whispered and, of course, some random act of a person caught the words in midair and hollered, “YEAH! RIGHT?!? WOOOOOOOO!!!” Ivane completed her private toast, watching him stagger forth (a pinwheel with its spinners set in motion through a constant blast of its own hot air). “What did you turn out to be?” they all asked at some point, feigning interest while attempting to find a name tag hidden in plain sight on her chest. “A surprise even to myself,” she answered all of them save one - the bookworm who caught her as she made her final escape. To him she gave a smile and answered truthfully, “I became the keeper of a remote lighthouse and a sea witch besides. You?” “I’m still in the school library,” he responded, grinning. Ivane nodded and knew, from his level of transparency, that he’d passed some time ago. “Come to the lighthouse when it’s time - when you’ve read everything,” she offered gently, moving through the door (and looking back). “I’ll show you the path; I’ll point you out over the water.”