Work of fiction!!!

The fires reflection dances in the rippling pond as an ash filled breeze blows soothingly across my face. I close my eyes to better extend my other four senses. I smell  a collage of aromas, burning wood, smoke, melting plastic and the ever so faint scent of burning flesh. I can smell them burning yet craning my ears I cannot hear them screaming, the cackling guffaw of the fire masks what is sure too be an awesomely abhorrent chorus of screams. I begin to walk closer until I can feel the heat of the fire as well as taste the spice of its rath. I smile and sit down on the grass,damp with dew, lean back on my arms and sprawl my legs out, rocking my feet back and forth as I watch the lady dance. Oh how I love to watch her dance the flaring of her dress as she spins round and round, the dramatic dips,leaps and falls, it is an art and she a muse. I lean forward and remove my knapsack from my back and get my sketch pad and pencils out. I cross my legs and hunch over as I begin scribbling trying to capture the radiance and romance of the dance, but knowing I will fail this time as I have before for her beauty is incaptureable. Suddenly a wretched wail pierces through the orchestral bliss and I am forced to replace my book and pencil in my knapsack and walk back to my tent on the lake. I reach the lakes beach, which is proportionally sandy as it is pebbly, and with one hand lift my tent to move it back. I kneel down and dig a shallow square hole and once again remove my sketch book but this time wrap it in a raggedy towel before placing it in the hole and burying it. Then I pick the tent back up and place in over my treasure and crawl inside to sleep until the police arrive.