by Sylvia Ney
Music swelled as the carousers danced and drank, laughing. Bodies rubbed against each other. Alcohol fumes rode the air, mixing with clouds of perfume and sweat.
Death waited near.
David Masters rolled his shoulders in an attempt to ease the discomfort. At seventeen years of age, he had already attended too many of these gatherings. The realization that this sort of behavior was still common place in 2015 only confirmed that society hadn’t evolved as much as it believed.
“Uncle, you know I don’t believe in this ceremony.”
“It’s tradition.”
“It’s barbarism. I’ll never understand how you can condone this revelry.”
“This is a celebration of life and a person’s right to choose.”
“There is no choice. It’s forced death.”
“No, it’s resolving to leave this world with dignity
