The moss reaches across the old chalet, trying to connect with his lost partner. A bird sings a patronizing song, which does not fit with the surrounding. The atmosphere is deep and shy, but the bird is sharp and bitter. Love of the chalet is appreciated by nature but people have dismissed it. The thistle bush stands proud and tall, in the way of any intruder. A red rose bush dances with pride, dragging its velvet leaves across the grass, but if you grasp its thorns you will shed shades of red, just like the flowers holding it high. Trees, with their exquisite necks, reach tall into the skies where they belong. A lavender bush, sitting in all its arrogance, sets off a fascinating aroma which lurks around the chalet, inviting you closer. Through the air, chemicals force an artificial, glossy taste down your throat as if it is sticking to your insides. The vibration of planes in the distance freeze your thoughts, and slowly the fake smell of pine leaks through the woods, but it’s a trick you know the smell is to take away from the lethal poison trying to suffocate you. You have to run but you know you can’t. You are stuck and you realize the fire started. As it starts to burn off everything around you. Purple ash floats away from the lavender bush. trees darken and start to collapse to the ground. The rose bush bleeds off its red petals. Each and every thorn sinks into the soil. The bird flys away cutting a dark silence in the sky. The moss steams up and dissolves. Then the fire saves you.