The Old Man and the Lighthouse

Eventually the winding stairwell leads us to a dark, cold loft. We can hear the wind crashing against the walls. It is virtually impossible to see. If it weren't for a faint flicker of a candle we would be completely in the dark. "I feel like we should turn away. This is some one's house after all." I nervously say to her. " You're right, we probably shouldn't journey any further."  We attempt to walk back down the stairs. The floorboards on the loft are old and create a loud, creaky noise. "Why is it we're more afraid of the light than the dark?" A raspy, old man voice cries out. "Who said that?" Olivia asks, shaking. The white candle floats towards us. We can not see the body holding the candle just his silhouette. "You have nothing to fear." The old man raises the candle to his face. The light reveals long, thin grey hair, countless bags under his eyes and brown peg - like teeth in a weary mouth that hangs open. Olivia and I gasp in surprise. The old man is rightfully offended. "It's the ageing process. It'll happen to you. Maybe not like this, but it will." "We're sorry, we just weren't expecting to see you." Olivia says. "What you're suprised someone lives here?" He snarls. " A little. Why are you in the dark?" I ask. "I'm not." The old man walks over to the window. He places the candle on a stand. The candle shines through a prism which then illuminates the whole room. Olivia and I are awe struck. " Is this how all light houses work?" I ask him. " I don't know. I just know what I do." The old man wobbles to an  arm chair and plops down. " I'm afraid I don't have any more seats. But you can stay if you'd like."  Curious, we walk over to the old man. " Who are you?" Olivia asks him. " Funny, I felt I should ask you that." I begin to open my mouth, the old man stops me. "Stop. I don't want to know." "Aren't you curious?" Olivia chimes in. The old man shakes his head. "Not in the slightest." "Can we ask who you are?" I suggest. He half smiles to himself. "You can. It doesn't mean that I'll tell. you." Realizing that we're disappoited he tries to throw us a bone. "My name doesn't matter because I left that when I left my old life." Olivia and I look at each other. " What was your old life?" She asks. " It doesn't matter." He replies quickly. Figures, I knew he would say that. The old man leans forward. "This is who I am now. That's all that matters." The old man puts on a pair of slippers that were resting by the side of the arm chair. He then stands up and starts to shuffle away. " I grow tired and need my rest." He announces to us. "Ok, you want us to leave?" I ask. "No, you can stay if you like." He continues to shuffle away. Out of sight and into the shadows.