The Old Lighthouse

Above me, I saw the sky. It was patchy, with dark grey clouds bowling in, to ruin the bright blue sky. Below the sky, I saw the trees, towering over the house like soldiers. The bare naked trees swayed from the wind, coming in from all different directions, like fairies arriving for a secret meeting with the Queen. Left of the trees, I saw the frozen lake, the ice four times thicker than a seal's blubber. The waves lapped like dominoes collapsing.   Beyond the waves there was an old deserted lighthouse, as white as a page from a book. The house was standing as still as a statue. It was old, hagged and dull.