Times have changed

"They say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time. It'll be the last you hear them say it.

I heard the dry winds of an early summer sigh through trees, which once stood beautiful with the inenarrable blooms of spring as they flaunted their beauty with pride like peacocks. After a torrent of rainfall in spring, which most said was abnormal, their leaves withered, and their barks were rough like they'd been sandpapered with sharp knives. No one feared the drought that lingered in the shadows of fall: no one did, so dancing and merrymaking was chosen over the most suitable option of preparation. Most of it involved relentless gathering and of food and water for survival but everyone celebrated life in the name of "seizing the days". After all, no one could outrun, outlive, or outshine the crown of death. Strangers became friends, friends became lovers, even animals were considered family. Men pouted in their corners drunk over beer and bad wine: their bellies protruding out of their tattered clothes and their funny posterior. They boasted of their ancient glories and bitterness than no love had been able to cure. Love itself was overrated; it had promised many bliss and wonder and their disappointed faces did little justice to the hurt and ruins it had left them in. I heard their deepest fears call out when they smiled and their heart burst with pain each time they laughed. I was afraid for them. I was afraid that they'd lost the strength to love again.