It was just a game for the boy

It was just a game for the boy— The only joy the sunsets ever held for him.
A game where he had to find them all, And strive to remain unseen.
Until the day he decided to be the absolute winner. They were far too foolish to ever find him.
And the old, cold refrigerator beyond the fences, Pressed against the lone, ancient tree of the village— Dark, towering, sullen— It was perfect.
At sunset, he would win, And the predictable fools would remain as they were.
Time passed.
The man has been there for years, Knowing well that he is the village’s sole champion.
No one lives there anymore.
Except— One tree. One refrigerator. One solitary winner. And a note that means nothing to him.