Nestled deep in the Smoky Mountains, is a small cabin. The family it once sheltered has long been gone. Once filled with life and hope, it now sits empty and bare. It stands as a monument to a time long gone, but soon it to will disappear. Disintegrating on the outside, rotting on the inside, and drowning in the ever thickening forest, it slowly crumbles away. The cabin has a simple square design, with only one window and a small screened in porch. It has little to distinguish it, except for an old iron compass on the ridge of the roof. The compass is decorated with a rooster whose tail is held primly in the air. It stands tall and proud, seemingly unaware of the decaying structure underneath it, unaware even of the rust that has begun to overtake