“November 28th, Mon… Tuesday, time is… 6:02 a.m.”, he wrote on the note, hands slightly quivering. “Cloudy, a bit of fog, visibility… no more than 1km”.

The last working measuring tool stopped functioning five years ago, leaving him with his eyes alone. Thankfully he didn’t need accurate measurements - no one’s going to need weather observations from an old man, with old technologies, in an old lighthouse by the shoreline. He lived in one of the last remaining lighthouses in the world. The pathetic remains of the old era, he thought.

Old era. How ironic for him to use that word. He always thought of the term new era as a word of arrogance and insanity. He has been hearing construction noises from time to time, even when the lighthouse is far from any cities and things alike. Almost immediately after the War, a technology breakthrough was declared, recovering the whole world within a few years, pushing everything forward. Not long after that, the world became a whole new place. The boats were gone, and so were the lighthouses.

He closed the note and laid back in the chair. The familiar ceiling. There were plenty of pasts worth reaching back to, but not a lot of future to think of. Grabbing his coat, he headed outside. He went out for a walk every morning, no matter the weather.

It was the end of autumn. The leaves fell as the wind harshly blew at the nearly bare trees. The moment leaves touch the ground, they become colourless. Dead. The leaves crackled under his feet as he ambled into the forest, almost as irritating as the town. The town is one of the most influential centres of business, economy and transportation. But to him, the town is always the town. The place where he spent half of his lifetime, the place he’ll never step in again. The place he loved the most, the place he hated the most.

A bird flew past - a seagull. Perhaps a herring gull, he thought, while turning to where the bird heads. It stopped on a low stone fence by the shoreline. Slowly, and softly, he moved towards it. What entered his eyes was not the gorgeous light grey fur he had expected, but a black “tail”. A sea cat, he was somewhat startled. That’s an unfamiliar look around here. The bird referred to as the sea cat was a black-tailed gull, habitually found on the other side of the planet.

What brought you here? He questioned in his mind. Maybe the little guy has lost his way. Or - he just wanted to see the world. He looked up with his eyes following the bird, as it took off from the fence. He stood looking up in the sky long after the bird flew away.

It was only 10 in the morning when he returned to the lighthouse. He always thought he had too much time. If not for repeating the so-called daily routine every single day, he wouldn’t have had anything to do at all. Languidly pouring water over grounded coffee, he looked through the window. The sea. He never really liked the sea. A wave is always going to ruin the calm surface whatsoever. But he liked sitting by his wife on the bench and looking over the sea. He liked the time he spent with her in this lighthouse.

Holding the coffee on a tray, he moved towards the couch. So slowly, as if the coffee weighed hundreds of pounds. The couch was alongside another window. A window in which he can gaze - stare at the shadows of the town. He sat down on the couch and placed the coffee tray next to the book on the round table. He opened the book, but his eyes weren’t on it. He was looking over the fence.

Staring blankly at the corner of the town, he remembered the day when the War ended.

It was early in the morning when the last gunshot was fired. A young man ran through the crowd, all the way to the centre of the town. He stood there with his hands trembling, slowly held up the radio.

“...twenty-four, a.m., the war officially ended.”

Suddenly, everything went quiet. So quiet that the background noise of the radio was so loud. Silence, followed by -

“...I repeat, THE WAR ENDED.”

Screams, cries, and cheers. Nothing and no one was sane at that moment.

And he walked away. Away from the crowd. Away from the town. That was the day when the War ended. The day when he fenced himself in the lighthouse. The day when he lost his neighbourhood, his friends, and his life.

It was also the day he lost his wife.

Many of the nights were filled with tears in the first few weeks. He couldn’t stop blaming the world, blaming the War, and blaming himself. He thought about giving it all in and put a period to his life. He thought about imprisoning himself inside the lighthouse. He thought about burning the lighthouse down with himself locked inside. But he also thought about going back to the town.

Didn’t have the courage to do any of those, apparently, he laughed ironically and took a sip of coffee. It was bitter. But what’s more bitter than the coffee was his life.

Months passed, years passed, and he never stepped across the forest. Numbness came in and took all the misery away, leaving him with nothing but emptiness. Even emptier than a watering pot after using up its water on flowers. He did weather observations, morning walks, and everything that could fill up his time. So did the meaningless days repeated, and 20 years passed in no time.

He stood up, and sat down again. For no reason. He looked down at the book. The book was found near the river in the forest, stuffed in a bag along with some other things. It was written two years ago, and was still about how brilliant human technology was: these books became a trend right after the War, but apparently, people were still ignorant of their arrogance today. The ‘new era rush’. More like a cult if you ask me, he thought. The first few pages had a big, bolded heading that wrote “The History of the War”. He stared at the word “history”. To him, the War still felt like yesterday. The fact that it broke out 25 years ago still hadn’t hit him yet. So as the fact that he’s already an old man in his sixties - which was, indeed, his final stage of life. He closed the book, trying to not think about it.

And that was when he heard a knock on the door.

* * *

A shaft of afternoon sunlight hit the textbook through the window. The teacher was speaking with a monotone voice, and he hadn’t been listening since the beginning. A pair of birds were dancing on the tree outside in the gentle winds. So were the trees, so was the grass, and so was his mind. He was casually leaning on his hands, gazing at the outside world, outside this little classroom. The sound of the teacher talking, chalk hitting the blackboard, and the sound of breaths was the only thing filling up the room. But in his mind, he can hear the sound of the breeze brushing through the meadow, the sound of children playing by the river. His eyelids were getting heavy: everyone’s tired this afternoon with the warm temperature and the gentle sunshine. An afternoon you simply could not resist the sleepiness.

Abruptly - a big, satisfying yawn. It woke everyone up with surprises on their faces. The hand that’s writing with the chalk froze.

“You! Stand up! Y’all are not sleeping in my class, understood?”, the teacher was pissed off. “Now, you answer this question, or all of you are not going back home today.”

“Nah,” he said, without giving the teacher time to react. “Class ended!”.

He ran out of the door as the charm rang, and his classmates followed. They laughed and laughed and ran towards the river. They ran playfully along the river with the water splashing when they stepped with their bare feet; They played on the grass and in the forest and laid down on the grass idling and listened to the buzz of cicada. It was mid-summer time. As the sun gradually went down, they said their goodbyes and see-you-tomorrows and went back to their home.

By the time he reached home, the sun had set entirely. He laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The smiles and the laughter were still in his eyes.

“Hah - that was fun! I’ll never forget the face sir had,” he giggled. School was too dull for a lively soul like his, but he couldn’t wait tomorrow to come. With a sweet smile on his face, he fell into the arms of Morpheus.

* * *

“... after the colonization, we... with fences all around...”

Colonization?

Fences… fences? The fences around the town? That took the drowsiness away. It was the first time they talked about this town’s past in history class, and he was having a nice little nap.

The professor kept going, “According to the law, it is forbidden to go to the other side of the fence, in other words, the Outside. You’ll be accused of endangering national security and put to life imprisonment or execution.

“However, under one certain circumstance, entrance is allowed. The law indicates that while we do not own any sort of army, we can serve as a soldier for the Outside’s military force. We have had 120 young men passing through the fence in the past 48 years since colonization - it requires you to have superior body strength and intelligence, and I wish I had been one of them…” the professor cleared his throat. “Well, let’s get back to our topic, shall we.”

As an adult, he understood how the world was like. He had been told to not go near the fences because it’s dangerous when he was a kid. He was yelled at by his mother multiple times because he always wanted to go out back then. This was the first time he heard the actual story: his country was colonized, and this town, this specific town by the sea, was fenced. But why here? He knew the answer. The port was a strategic high ground for the incoming war, offering an effortless victory. Incoming war. People used that term when I was a kid, and people still use it today - it’s not gonna break out in, say, less than ten years, he doubted.

That wasn’t a guess without evidence - with the highly developed technology, the Outside would have destroyed the world several times. They’re not gonna risk it, he thought. What he cared about right then wasn’t the world’s state but his own life. It was not long before he graduated, and he needed to make sure he could find a job.

Time moved to the afternoon. As the sky was gradually covered with thick, grey clouds, he realized he didn’t bring an umbrella. What’s worse was that before he decided to dash back home, the rain poured down bluntly. He stood at the entrance of the university, left with no choice but to get himself drenched badly and perhaps giving up a few days of university - which was fine - but with the weight of graduating on his shoulders, it was too much of a risk.

He sat on the stairs and closed his eyes. So much did he love the sound of rain, he still prefered bright sunshiny days. Bright, just like his future. He somewhat caught his name called within the beat of the raindrops and opened his eyes to find his girlfriend, or shall he say, his fiancée, patting his head with the tip of an umbrella.

“That’s what you get for not listening to me,” she teased with a grin, reaching her hand out to him. “I did tell you it’s gonna rain.”

“Supposedly my ears went deaf this morning.” he took her hand and got up from the floor.

“You just didn’t listen.” she chuckled. “Let’s go back home.”

They walked together under the umbrella. He focused on the sound of raindrops hitting the umbrella. He opened his mouth, was about to say something -

“What are you going to do after graduating? I mean, what job?”

He was interrupted by the question that was thrown at him, “I don’t - I don’t know. Something thrilling, I guess.”

“D’you know that the lighthouse will be fully constructed soon? We can work together there, well, if you’re okay with it.” she turned to him, and looked him in his eyes.

“Like a lighthouse keeper? What do we have to do?” he asked.

“We need to record the weather observation in the morning and send it, take care of the lamp and trim the wicks. All-day every day.”

“Sounds -” he watched as the raindrops slipped from the edge of the umbrella. “- mediocre.”

“Knew you’re gonna say that”, she beamed. “What isn’t mediocre then?” She looked at his eyes. The eyes that had the entire world in them.

* * *

He was going to skip the graduation ceremony, but he did go after all. It’s a place he studied for four years. Gotta be thankful, he thought.

He immediately regretted the decision: there’s nothing more suffocative than listening to long, dull speeches for hours. The speech was about career and future, and neither was useful to him. He already made his decision in mind.

That day had beautiful sunlight, reminding him of the day he made a promise. What a coincidence, he thought. He got rid of the gown and the hat soon after the ceremony ended and headed to the entrance. She was waiting for him.

“How was it?” she snickered.

“Didn’t worth the time, I’d say.” he kissed her on her cheek.

“I thought you were out of your mind when you said you’re going to the ceremony this morning. But no, you’re still you.” she teased. “Congrats, I guess. On surviving the speeches.”

They stopped when they’re halfway home, and he turned left.

“Where you going? Don’t say that you forgot the way.” her smile was somewhat uncertain.

“Just come.” he turned back and grabbed her hands.

They walked alongside the sea. The sea breeze, the singing of seagulls and the music of waves are all covered by his heartbeat. He stopped and peeked at her - a charming smile, so breath-taking under the setting sun.

Without moving his eyes, he said, “The sea is so beautiful.”

“It is. Do you like it?”

He took a deep breath, “I’ve decided where I want to work.”

“And where is that?” she smiled as if she could read minds.

“Remember the lighthouse you told me about?”

“Wasn’t that ‘mediocre’?”

“It was,”

“Then why -” she paused, raising her eyebrow.

The twilight sun lit up the sky so luminously in gold and amber, as if the sky itself could speak of love.

* * *

It was the first day they moved into the lighthouse, and it wasn’t a plain-sailing start. They had been learning and practising their job content, of course; however, no matter how much they acquired with the textbooks, it was a completely different story for the actual work.

It was a mess, admittedly. But they got the hang of it, bit by bit. Despite the struggles, the lighthouse was the perfect place for the couple to live in. It was by the shoreline, with a stone passage crossing the forest, all the way to the town. A few minutes of walking was required; nevertheless, they didn’t find it troublesome. The beach was also not far from here, but who would go to the beach when you can sit by the short stone fences and gaze at the sea while enjoying the warm breeze? One of their favourites was that.

He had a love for the sea. The sea was never the same every time he looked at it. It’s never the same waves, never the same emotions, and never the same life. There was passion, inspiration, and excitement in the heart of the sea. And in the heart of his. A heart filled with the aspiration of a different life. A free life.

* * *

One decade flew passed before he could notice. Time goes faster when you’re happy, I’ve heard, he thought. Every single day here in this lighthouse with his wife was a day worth the memory. He laid cosily on the bed. It was 10 in the morning, and she was still asleep. This was her second sleep after getting up at six to do the observations.

He rose, supporting his body with his arms and turned to a sitting position. The clock read ten twenty-four. Just right for an elevenses, he thought. Well, it’s supposed to be a morning snack, though. Not a late breakfast. Getting up from the bed, he moved to the kitchen. Cooking was something he not only learned but also mastered during these years.

He had been learning new things since the second year they moved in. Even though he wasn’t alone, the numbers of things he could do were still unsatisfactory.

The rest of the day was nothing particular - just like every day else. He used to hate life like this. But with her, this was worth the bear. This was worth the bear, he repeated. He was unsure that if deep inside his mind, this mediocre life became enough for his ambition.

He sat down on the bench outside the lighthouse. His sigh turned into a white mist and was gone with the cold winds.

He was not aware that she took a seat by him as he was zoning out. “Ah. You’re here”, he said, not fully back to reality.

“What are you doing?” she smiled. She was always smiling.

“Looking at the sea. “

“As usual?”

“As usual.”

“No, you’re not.”

“How’s that?” he asked. It didn’t sound like a question, but almost as if he was spoiling, like a child.

“You’re not looking at the sea. It’s not in your eyes.”

“...”

“You read the news this morning, didn’t you? It’s becoming dangerous to do something different.”

“...”

“So you started to think if you don’t have to lie to yourself anymore,” she hesitated. “Do you still want to go out there?”

He looked away from her. Away from the sea, away from the sunlight, and away from himself. He closed his eyes.

“If that’s your choice, I respect it. I honestly do.”

He kept his eyes closed.

“If that’s really what you want, just tell me. I’m not gonna be upset or like hate you or something.”

He kept his eyes closed.

“I didn’t want to do something different.”

He slightly reacted. His eyes were closed, still.

“I used to think it’s best to have everything the same. I used to think if we can’t go out the fences, we can’t. I used to have given up so many things just because of the fear of the unknown”

He kept his eyes closed.

“And that day I realized the first time in my life,

“That there’s an option to be unordinary,

“To not be seized by the fence, the fence named fear,

“The fence named hidebound.

“And outside the fence, there is love,

“There is dream,

“And there is freedom - the freedom to choose the way we want to live our lives.

“You taught me to be a bird. A bird that can fly over the fences.”

The golden, burning sun blinded him as he opened up his eyes. He covered them with his hands, forcefully blinked, and gazed into the horizon.

“I -”

* * *

As the bullet from the soldier’s gun penetrated the child’s head, the war broke out as if the countries were all waiting for the excuse. It was the 46th year since he had been bought to this world.

He was resting with ease on the couch when he heard the callous words coming out from the radio. It was also when he heard the knock on the door. The knock was so impatient that he even believed the door was going to break for a second.

He put his hand on the knob, but it got separated from the door frame before he opened it. He wasn’t expecting a desperate guest like this, but he soon understood the situation: these men are troopers from the Outside - the town was under control. Obviously, he thought.

Before he could say a word, the commander raised his hand. As the men saw the gesture, they rushed in and went straight up to take over the lighthouse. The commander looked at him with despise and tut-tutted, “The lighthouse is now under our control. Go somewhere else or go to hell, you decide.” He was clearly irritated by the mission that was given to him.

He had no choice but to leave the lighthouse. His wife was at the town right then, for getting food. He decided to meet her there and get through the war in their old house - which, favourably, wasn’t sold as they planned.

From that day on, all the peace and happiness turned into catastrophe and misery. Every night there are cries for their lost family. Every morning, people hide in their houses with windows and doors barricaded, but there was no running away from the jet bombers’ turbulent sound. Sometimes they flew past, sometimes a deafening explosion followed. The terror held everyone in the houses, and for years the dead souls stayed around in hatred. But they didn’t know this was only the beginning.

In the final years of the War, the Outside had altogether forced other countries back on their lands. The victory was right in front of their eyes. No more bombers, no more destroyers; the town’s people had survived the disaster. However, until the War entirely ended, people had to live in anxiety every single day. They had adapted to the new life pattern.

That day, he went out to the entrance of the fence as usual - it was where people could get supplies from the Outside. This was a risky move, and there were over ten innocent lives lost because they ran out the fence during resupplying. So much did he want to see the outside world; he was mature enough to know that dreams come with responsibilities. Suddenly, a blatant sound interrupted his mind from functioning.

It took him a solid minute to understand the loud noise was a gunshot. The guards from the Outside pulled out their guns and called reinforcements. He froze, not knowing what he should do until the voice from the radio shouted.

The Outside had lost it all. All armies on other countries’ land were wiped at once, and the entire world’s forces were assembled here at this town.

Tick, tock.

Another bullet fired.

Tick, tock.

Screams.

Tick, Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

He dashed. Dashed towards his home.

Grasped the doorknob. Slapped the door open.

There was nothing.

Nothing but a tainted room. Tainted with blood.

* * *

He moved to the door, and the door was hit again. It was surely a knock. He hadn’t heard one in years. He put his hands on the knob, hesitating to open it. He took a deep breath and turned his wrist.

Outside the door stood 2 young men with military clothing - they came from the town’s military. After the War, the Outside was destroyed along with its cities. The fences were taken down, and the town was de facto neutral interposed between the big countries. It inherited the Outside’s technology and came to an agreement of being virtually ruled by another country.

An acute deja vu blew his mind, but he proceeded to greet the soldiers, “What do you guys want from an old man?”

The taller soldier began talking, “Good morning, sir. What a beautiful place! Certainly comfortable -”

“Go straight to the point.” he interrupted.

The two men looked at each other, and the tall soldier continued with mockery in his tone, “If you say so, sir. Now, you must’ve heard about the big plans we have for the area, or have you not?” The shorter soldier nudged his partner.

“You better rid yourself of the roundabouts and tell me what you want.”

“Okay, okay.” the tall soldier seemed irritated. “We’d have to ask you to leave the lighthouse. Our harbour is simply not in a great spot like this, so we’re going to build something here to help develop the town. “

“...What?” he was visibly in shock.

“You go live somewhere else and we tear this stupid lighthouse down for good. The stupid government is gonna give you a house to live in, so you’d better appreciate us.” the soldier yelled at him.

“Hey!” the short soldier nudged his partner again, this time with more power. “This man here helped a lot before the War, so we’re treating him nicely. Did you already forgot what the commander told ya?”

“Who cares? Just an old codger blocking our way to contribute to humanity.”

The conflict grew between them, but he couldn’t hear it. The voices are masked, covered, like underwater. Leaving the lighthouse? He couldn’t get his head around this. How am I supposed to live a different life? Tearing down the lighthouse? No. NO. The place is filled with my memories with her. How am I gonna accept that?

The shorter man managed to shut his partner up, “Look, sir, we’re gonna get you a nice looking villa by the mountain if you prefer to be away from the town. Also, we’re not removing the lighthouse but to leave it as a landmark. We won’t touch it at all!”

The words never went in his ears.

The taller guy grabbed the other soldier’s shoulder and pulled him back. “That’s not gonna work, you fool. This is how you do it.” he turned to the old man. “I’ll give you a minute, and your answer better be yes. Or else expect a hole in your face.” The soldier pulled out the gun, pointing at him.

The shorter soldier quickly pressed his arms down, “What on earth are you doing! Are you seriously gonna shoot an old man? You’d be dead too if you do that, I’m warning ya.”

“What? Obviously I’m not shooting him. Am I that stupid?”

They didn’t realize the old man in front of them disappeared. All of a sudden, the short soldier felt a distinct pain in his back. The two panicked, and the taller soldier pulled down the trigger with no time to think.

The shot landed directly in his heart.

He kneeled down and fell on his side with the sound of the glass flower pot breaking apart. The blood slowly painted their boots red.

Will you shut up, he thought. And give the old man a moment of peace.

The soldiers quickly stopped the argument and agreed - they needed to get out of here.

Ahh. This might be the end. Finally.

He painfully and powerlessly turned his neck. The sea looked so calm.

Time to say goodbye to the lighthouse then. He recalled her. I can finally join you on the other side.

The cold late autumn wind patted his face with a warm, tender touch to it as if she cooed to his ears.

He looked straight at the sky. A bird flew past. Was it the sea cat? He couldn’t tell. He watched the bird until it winged out of his vision; his body raised ever so slightly as he tried to see the bird.

The bird flew away. Away from the bustle. Away from the pain. It flew over the fence - the fence that was never removed ever since that day.

* * *

He and she were lazing on the grass. Under the red glowing sky, he sat looking over the hill, over the fence.

“...out there.”

“Hm?” the girl prompted.

He didn’t move his eyes away from the landscape, “One day I’ll go out there.”

“But you know we can’t - are you going to be a soldier?” she asked worryingly.

He burst out laughing as he looked back at her. He couldn’t tell if it was a blush or the twilight rays had tinted her face red. “One day we’ll be able to cross the fences,” he paused for a second. “Together, I promise you.

“We’ll be able to go out and see the misty mountains, the tremendous waterfalls, the white sand desert and the sea of flowers… We’ll be able to meet the world for the first time.”

She looked away, shyly, as their eyes met, “What… what is a waterfall?”

He wasn’t expecting that. “Um, a waterfall is, you know... um, some falling water?” he clearly panicked.

Now it’s her turn for a peal of unrestrained laughter.

“Come on! I just read it from a book. I’ve never seen one!” his face turned red. He looked at her for a while, and joined her laughter.

They laughed under the glowing sunlight. It was filled with pure, sincere love and tenderness.

He got up from the grass, pointing to the hill with his finger. “I’m a bird, you know. I can easily go to the other side.”

“But why can’t you right now?”

“Because I’m fenced. Ironic, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“I’m fenced, and I’m a bird. A fenced bird.”