was a man, holding the key, unable to find a lock that would fit it. Thoughts raced through his mind. Was he seeing himself, or someone else? The previous owner perhaps? A strange sort of panic began to set over him and he could feel himself reaching for the key as if there was any chance it could have disappeared. It was his only clue, after all.

Then he laughed. He was delirious, of course. There was no other explanation. Here he was, watching a cricket maintain a fire he had probably built himself which created prophetic smoke. Suddenly things started to make more sense. He still couldn't remember a thing but he began to try and deduce his circumstances. It was likely he got into a drunken brawl on a ship, perhaps he had won the key from someone and the argument that followed got a bit too heated. He took a solid blow to the head and went overboard and of course no one had bothered to look for him.

"Yeah, that must be it." He said, sitting down by the fire. For a moment it seemed as though the cricket had looked at him, confused, but he simply continued adding wood to the fire. The Man in the Smoke seemed desperate now. Charred chests, doors and padlocks manifested  themselves from the flames but none would fit the key. Eventually all that was left was the key itself, and the scene in the smoke remained unchanged. No man, no locks, just a key without a purpose or owner.

A sudden thirst overcame the man and he realised all he could taste was salt in his mouth and being dehydrated probably wasn't helping his apparent hallucinations. He got up from beside the fire and tried to think of where to go to find some fresh water when the cricket...