All Tomorrow’s Parties

No one mourned me.

What was that I heard? Maybe the sound of the locomotive? No, they don’t make those anymore. And I’m nowhere near one of them. This pain I feel must have something to do with the noise.

 Dig deeper. You must remember it.

The first thing you saw was a river. Yes exactly. Blue, pristine, brilliant and beautiful. You were there when his waters rose, when they decreased, when they were clean, when they were dirty. Until the day he was no more. “Oh, my dear friend! No rains could heal you.” When he was gone, happiness went with him. There weren’t as many birds anymore, to fill everything with their songs. There weren’t waters to help them sleep with their sound.

Instead, there came those men, more or less your age, eager to substitute him. They started to clear the earth, to better use the space your friend the river had left to build places to live. You observed them from afar, they didn’t seem to notice you. Those first stones, put one over the other, started to pave the way for more men like them, more women and more children, without any of them noticing your stare. Some were tall, some were short. Some of them met the twilight of their final day in front of you, at the same time some others reached their dawn. They laughed, cried, suffered, kissed.

All in front of you.

The days went by and you had almost forgotten your friend the river. You saw him on paintings, on murals, on drawings from another time. But it wasn’t the same. “I waited for you, my friend. Why didn’t you come back?”

Bit by bit, those people started changing. You saw how they made it through more winters and summers, how each time fewer diseases took their lives. You started to see that they built bigger houses, taking up more space. And there you were, looking at them, without them noticing. 

They built a giant castle, which governed the entire town, using the remains of your friend the river, who was no longer your friend. You watched them fighting against each other, killing each other, same as their horses, for reasons you didn’t understand. “Maybe they don’t either,” you thought. You saw them changing their strange clothes with time, as they made their homes and temples even bigger. The most magnificent castle in the kingdom, the one you had seen being built and defended, was replaced on its purpose, to become a place only to be admired. The houses surrounded you, like small threatening trenches, that nonetheless sheltered those people you watched lovingly, even though they did not see you. 

Life grew around you and changed quickly. Horse-drawn carriages were replaced by four-wheeled metal boxes. Clothes were now comfortable, instead of those flamboyant dresses from the times of the castles. You observed with admiration how things changed for the better. How those women were now more independent, how those workers were now treated with more respect, though things were far from perfect. But they still didn’t see you. Without you noticing, you started to breathe worse and worse. Those metal boxes threw fumes that went up and choked your friend, the sky, who cried poison in return. The people didn’t seem to mind, but you did. 

The small town whose birth you witnessed seemed now to touch the clouds, while their inhabitants shouted at each other, without glancing your way. Your curiosity turned into worry, as you were growing old. There weren’t many like you left now. You didn’t know how it had happened, though you knew perfectly well. Since your friend the river was gone, your friends the birds sang less each time, until the day they stopped completely. Your friend the sky had grown sad, for her clouds were no longer white, and the stars were ashamed to shine; showy as they were, they couldn’t stand having no one to look at them. But you felt optimistic. If you weren’t gone yet that meant there was still hope, for your friends as well. 

You waited patiently for them to see you. The houses stacked more and more over each other and each time they had more people inside. Each day there was more noise, each day fewer stars. You started to feel bad, but didn’t know why. You didn’t think it was the people. “Why would they hurt me? They haven’t even seen me,” you thought, with your usual hope that things would improve. You kept on watching, observing, and you saw one of those changes that fascinated you so much. For some reason, there came a trend of people covering their mouths with plastic pieces. You thought that was strange, but didn’t think much of it, just a normal thing everyone did. But you noticed that perhaps there were fewer people than usual. That those metal boxes, the ones who emitted a strident sound and red lights, travelled faster than ever from one place to another, at all times. People were uneasy, walking fast and avoiding each other. Each day you saw fewer and fewer faces. One day you woke up and everyone had disappeared. They were all inside their gigantic homes, and the only thing you heard was the metal box with its strident sound. You were very bored. 

You never knew how much time they were in there, what it was they hid from, without daring to go out on the street. You only knew they sometimes cheered from their windows, near sundown. What you did know was that your condition had improved thanks to their strange behavior. You felt better, breathed fine and could talk again with your friend the sky, whose tears were no longer bitter. She sometimes told you about the sea, her most beloved, and said that she was really happier, as her colour had returned. “I wish people would come out now and enjoy everything out here,” you thought. 

After all that time, you still didn’t realize.

Day by day, people came back into the streets, still without mouths or noses. You started to feel sick again, but they didn’t notice. Many days passed until you could see their mouths again. And there they were, as happy as ever, hugging, kissing, laughing and living as they had before. And they finally started to see you.

You were so glad, finally you were going to be one of them. You saw some of them by your side, with drawings and papers, tables and tools you didn’t know the purpose of. 

That night you dreamt of past times, times of trains and horses, of castles and kings, of dances and rituals, of rivers and forests. And in the morning you woke up with a new noise, one you hadn’t heard before.

And you returned to the present moment.

“I remember now. It’s the people. At last they see me! Wait… what is this? This is for me. They’re here! They finally see me!”

And I fell.

No one saw me.

No one mourned me.