On the day I broke off my engagement, I encountered a bird on the street.
I walked towards him to see if he was hurt or dead. I got down on my knees and scooped his body into my hands. His eyes were gently closed, his wings were unbound from troubles and his body was very warm.
Instantly I felt a rush of blood and sadness radiating through my body. Not expecting him to still be warm, I sat on the ground with the bird in my hands. With tears running down my neck, I eventually picked myself up and dug him a grave on the side of the street.
When I saw him resting in the soil, I realized that living is as much of a mystery as death.