eventually, no one could mourn correctly; they'd all become so accustomed to the death of children. friends and friends of friends and friends of friends of friends. an entire generation, lost to heaven. the feeling of loss dwindled when men, women, and children learned to harden their hearts. why bother when we're all just born to leave? nowadays, the survivors live in ghost towns, shut-in and alone. sometimes, it's better not to talk about it. eventually, it's just too late.