Imagine coming around a bed as the sun is starting its descent.
Imagine seeing this little cottage in the middle of a small clearing abutting a church, surrounded by greenery, the area around it carpeted with flowers, the sun filtering through the trees.
Imagine sitting on the parapet that runs above the area, with the wind whistling through your hair, wondering what purpose the cottage serves.
Does it belong the fairies? Do they come there to play?
Does it belong to the gnomes? Have they hidden their gold in there?
Or does it belong to the church? Have they used it as the store house for broken pews and forgotten ephemera?