The fire dances across the wooden frames of my roof, devouring what was once mine at the same time as accentuating its beauty. A smile creaks from my face, my old worn face. Memories flood into my mind as the flames lick the side of my bed, memories that easily exceed the power of the fire, and I smile. I smile about what once was. Slowly I manage to turn in my bed and see my wife; she looks so young in that photo, so very beautiful. The photo sits upon her favourite darkly oiled oak side table. I first met her at the café down Main Street; she was a waitress there, and so graceful and elegant was she that from the moment I saw her I knew that she was the one. "Ha, even through death you manage to make me happy." And with that I reach over and pick up the rose that I will soon take to her, so soon we will see each other again. The roof creaks and loose boards rain down upon the table next to my bed, and swallow the memories, burn away the edges and turn them to ash. I roll onto my back and clutch the rose to my chest, and then another smile creaks from my face. The stars shine through the cracks in the timber above me; those stars have watched me grow all these years.

I groan and manage to sit myself up and stare down the hallways and there I see the image of my little boy, walking down towards me, taking his first steps, his mother would have been so proud. And once again, that memory is taken away as the flames envelope the hallway. The roof creaks and fails to hold, gold light falls onto my legs and fireflies dance around my face. The moon winks at me from behind the willow tree that is now visible from the hole in my roof. When I was young I would climb that tree and then fall from it, trying to soar like a bird, only to be caught in the arms of my father. "Ha, what times I've had" I chuckle, and then raise my hand to the sky. "You really have gone mad you old coot, I guess that's the best time to go though," I say to myself while turning my hand round to examine it.
"The skin on my hands might fold from age, but at this moment, ha, well. I feel twenty years of age again."

I drop back down and hold the rose even tighter in my hand, the thorns pierce my skin but I feel no pain. The roar of the fire if overwhelming and the blood that runs down my hand is drenched in an orange hue, "How beautiful, and yet how strange" I guffaw. "Well then, I guess this is it." I sigh with finality. A smile once again creaks from my face, but manages to squeeze from it a tear. "I'll miss you memories." I whisper to myself. "You shall be lost with the fireflies!"

A giant creak erupts from the roof as though saying it cannot hold and then it finally falls, the walls collapse, the rose burns and the memories are taken away with the fireflies that float heavenward from the rubble.

The sun rises up from the horizon and casts light upon charred remains of the house. In the distance a young man appears over a hill on the dirt road that leads to the house, his brown hair flowing behind him, along with his loosely done tie and shirt as he casually rides down the road. His eyes move towards the house and his hand strikes the brake. The man stands their, staring at the remains, as though he cannot understand what he is seeing. Minutes pass until the man finally starts to casually ride once again along the bendy, old dirt road towards the house. The bike passes through the front gate, past the willow tree and then comes to a stop at the front door, and he disembarks from the bike. The man lightly laughs and then walks around the house taking in the scene. He stops and looks down. There at his feet lies a rose, half eaten by the fire that must have taken place a few days back, now dead. He bends down and picks it up, and tears pour from his face. With one foot he nudges the house and laughs to himself while wiping his eyes. "You crazy old man, I should have expected this from you."
Then he throws his head up to the sky and the tears continue to fall, "Send my love to mother! You were a great man father!"