the light is in good order. it does not need me as much as the office believed. i wind it on thursdays and it carries the rest of the week alone.

i have kept a small jar of matches in the second drawer for the years they forget to send oil. the bell — you may have heard — rings on its own in a hard wind. this is normal.

if you stay, do not write down your dreams. the light is a poor confidante. it remembers everything and tells the sea.