Cass in the Lamp Room

Cass stood in the lamp room while the sea practiced being endless. The big light was for ships. Cass was not a ship. She was a girl in a striped sweater who had been trusted with a stool and a view. “I will only watch the dark parts,” she said, which made the keeper smile. Glass and night and a slow wheel of gold. The lighthouse hummed the way a fridge hums, only braver.

Samples are short so you can hear Bubby. Your child’s photo and name go in Grown-ups.

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