Identity 

Elizabeth is freed, touched the air ith the kin of her fingertips, not cold as the winter solace comes crashing down on her position, she watches close by as a fire burns bright 50 feet away, soon encountering an unknown human through the glass panned window, it's gotta be James!

 James is 60 years old and his wife Cathy died from Stage 3 Liver Cancer 5 years ago, leaving behind her red boat James and her used to go fishing in until the sickness affected her completely, hindering her ability to move.

 The faded red boat uplifted James's spirit but not his validation for moving on, the bells rung toll, one, two and three, each flame represses the same pained memories.

 With guilt chained to him on a heavy stone, James's flame was giving out soon as well with no end in sight, there it was the train tracks full of delight.

 In his mind, heavy the imagrey of a sad old women begging for the kiss and last touch of her partner, he looks away with regret for not saving her, the sunset grows cold, it collapses like paper. 

Pondering about the current value of progression, James stands still in his house remeniscing about the good old days, the days that danced the night away before.