Thriving
They found him quite dead, maybe two weeks or so, and old Mr. Fremont's plants quite alive. Vibrantly green and thriving, they contrasted the shambling interior. The broken down, remote chalet, far from the nearest village, gave no clues to his solitary passing. Some folks say Mr. Fremont was nearly a century old, and had just let everything go after his wife died a decade past. Apparently, enough rain had come through the ceiling to keep his cherished ferns going, an epilogue that would have only pleased the hermit centurean.
