A stormy night

Hello fellow readers,

I'm very new to writing. I wanted to challenge myself with something new so I used a writing prompt with limited time (20 mins). I finished the writing on time but spent way more than 20 mins for editing and revising as I'm not a English native speaker. If by any chance you stumble upon my writing, welcome! Please kindly let me know what you think and what I can improve.

Many thanks!

Prompt: “A lonely lighthouse keeper discovers an ancient artifact washed up on the shore. As they examine it, they realize it's emitting a faint, pulsing light that seems to be communicating in an unknown language.”

It is a dark, stormy night. The wind has been unmerciful all day. By night, rain falls heavily on the roof, knocking hastily against the windows. Occasionally, lightning flashes, capturing snapshots of resilient trees standing strong amid the storm.

Strangely, Ethan finds solace on nights like this. The ferocity of the storm never scares him; it calms him instead. Putting down the book he is reading, Ethan leans back in his comfortable armchair. He closes his eyes and listens to nature’s majestic symphony. The unique percussive pattering of raindrops sings different notes and rhythms on his roof, windows, and the ground. The wind joins in, harmonizing with its long, whistling notes. The air, soaked with an earthy smell, cleanses his lungs and clears his mind. It is nature’s orchestra, raw and beautiful, playing just for him.

Ethan has been living in this coastal town for the last decade. He arrived one sunlit morning, captivated by how the sunlight scattered across the water, turning the beach into a bed of sparkling constellations. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the lighthouse, lost in the peaceful, lovely morning with the sea, the sun, and the waves.

"Does anyone take care of the lighthouse?" Ethan asked the lady in a nearby bakery. "It looks like it may need a hand."

"The Waverleys used to, but they can’t manage it anymore. I guess nobody is taking good care of it now, poor thing,” the kind lady replied.

"Do you want to have a coffee to go, darling? Ours is the best in town," she added with a brilliant smile, her eyes crinkling at the corner.

“Marvelous.” Ethan smiled back, thinking it would not be a bad idea to give this town a try.

Just like that, Ethan had stayed at the lighthouse and been its sole caretaker for the last ten years. He had thought nothing would ever change that until this fateful night.

In between those snapshots that the lightning captured, there it is. A faint, pulsing light emanates between the rocks. Something has been washed ashore by the waves. The light flickers weakly, yet Ethan can’t tear his eyes away. It pulses with a rhythm that resonates deep within him, like a whisper, like a lullaby. It beckons Ethan with silent urgency.