Inside: a single photograph of a lighthouse at midnight, and a key no larger than a thumbnail.
No one knew what it meant. Not the postmaster, not the historian at the local archive. But the key fit a locker at the abandoned train station, and inside that locker was a notebook filled with dates and coordinates. dnweqffuwjtx
Dnweqffuwjtx. Maybe it was a name. Maybe a forgotten language. Or maybe just a mistake that became a mystery. Inside: a single photograph of a lighthouse at