Why, my human friend, do you shed tears, and raise a glass, alone like this, every year?
"Because, my kind rescuer, there are so many of us that didn't get out of there in time." -- Anon Guest
It was time, again. The same day on the calendar of the world that Human Kie had been born on. Companion Wes kept watch on that calendar, all so he could keep watch on Kie and hir ritual. To make certain ze didn't end up harming hirself.
Humans can do very strange things in extremis.
It contained a candle, two shotglasses, and a bottle of the local brew that was made out of peaches. Well. Mostly peaches. The bottle, large and heavy, required a lot of dexterity to carefully pour two shots. Kie did so with reverence, lit the candle, and toasted the empty chair and full glass.
A small sip. Just a taste. Kie took a deep breath, not putting the glass down, and sang a song older than hir birthworld's civilisation.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?
A second sip, and the tears began to flow.
Should auld acqaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne?
A sip, a line, over and over, until the shot glass was emptied.
We'll tak a right guid willy waught, for auld lang syne.
Kie, tears still flowing, lit the contents of the other glass. And sang the last chorus as the liquor in it burned to nothing. It was only then that Kie returned the seal to the bottle.
Wes let hir weep, one careful hand on hir elbow.
The glass guttered out, and Kie blew out the candle with a shuddering sigh.
"Why do you do this? It hurts you," said Wes.
"I do it to remember them. I do it for all those who didn't make it. When the liquor's gone... I'll be free to be happy all year, and not feel guilty about not missing them so much." Kie had half a smile. Weak and wobbling, all the same. "Survivor guilt is a hell of a thing. I do this... so I can remember that it's good I was that lucky. If I died with them? There'd be nobody to remember."
[Photo by David Tomaseti on Unsplash]
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