Business as usual
There was this forest where a bird sang. No living being ever stopped to listen to its talent but it didn’t care. Perhaps it didn’t know what else to do with its voice. One afternoon, the sun was right over its head leaving our bird dizzy. Regardless, it kept singing. Too late. Suddenly, it dropped dead from the branch above. As usual, nobody cared. Except the air who felt envious of the soil below.