Early in the morning, the leaves fluttered down to the autumn floor. The dew dropped and fell between the long grass and slivered down like a snake.

Nestled among the undulating hills, a château is just in sight. The colourful sun sets across the horizon like oil pastels in a artists pallet.

At sunrise, a man, who was old and frail hiked down the disgusting road. The clothes on his back where battered and torn. A backpack sat on his exhausted body, as he thought about his beloved family. In his left hand, he gripped onto a burnt stick.