The Crackling of the Hearth

The crackling of the old, stone hearth can be heard from his bedroom upstairs, unhindered even by the cool, smooth walls of the wooden cabin, set out so far from anyone else.

The fire rages on, and he creeps down the rough-hewn oak stairs to find his father, sitting quietly.

Perhaps the glass of bourbon has gone unnoticed -- and his son has only seen an old man who reads by the fire.