The flower

The wind drifted its way through the grass and flowers of the hill-y Terrain. Through the many hills and small makeshift mountains layed a singular tree, no more no less. The tree sat near a ledge which opened up to the large vast ocean, the perfect place to rest and feel the ocean’s breeze. Underneath this crooked and old tree sat 2 young men looking at the last bits of sunlight that were bleeding through the horizon. The sky was a beautiful red-is shade and only a small part of the sun was still peaking out. The 2 men sat with their backs against the tree not daring to mutter a word. 

The wind blew harder and the tree rustled in the wind. A small wilted flower was then torn apart from its place and landed into the hands of one the men. 

He picked it up into his hands and examined it a bit before saying “Hey, you know what flower this is?”

“Huh?” the other man exclaimed before turning over and taking it from his hand to examine it “nope no clue.”

The first man sighed and took the flower from the other person back. 

“The sunset is quite beautiful isn't it?” the first man asked, trying to change the subject. 

“Yeah, it really is beautiful, its kinda crazy how we see this everyday but don't really acknowledge it.”

“sure is” he looked and the wilted flower once more plucking out one of its petals. 

The other man glanced at him, questioning what he was doing “why do seem to like that flower that much? It isn't really that pretty, it's wilted anyways.”

The first man looked him in the eyes “like you have the right to judge something based on appearance” he let out a little smirk “might I interest you into taking a look in the mirror.”

The other man giggled a little before clearing his throat. “Okay okay. But seriously, why are you so fixated on that flower?”

The first man continued to stare at the flower and answered “this flower, in my hands, It's quite beautiful isn't it? just like the sunset in front us.”

The second man looked confused since the flower was not beautiful, it was merely a replica of its former glory. 

“this flower was once a part of a flower field (probably)” the man continued “everyone would admit it was beautiful back then but look at it now, thrown away to rot like all living things eventually will.”

“your point being?” the second man questioned

“Would you say that this flower is beautiful?”

“No?”

“hmmm… I See. But personally, I would say it's most beautiful right now.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, what if that flower field was made of fake flowers, what would you think of it?” the first man said, pointing towards a nearby plot of flowers. 

“well i wouldn't really think much to be honest”

“okay but would you prefer it was all real flowers or fake ones?”

“well real ones of course.”

“I see but what difference would it make to have fake instead of real ones?”

“The fake ones are merely a copy of the real.”

“Well what makes one of them fake and what makes one of them real?”

“stop using such a roundabout way and just get to the point already.” the second man was growing tired of this boring conversation and wished to push it somewhere forward

“Fine,I'll answer it for you. The fake ones don't die. That's the difference. The real ones will die soon that's why we care, that's why we worry but if it's going to live forever then what's the point? The fact the flower will die soon, the fact it will reach something that is often seen as evil is what makes it worthwhile, worth spending time with, worth creating bonds with.”

“...”

“Death is what gives us meaning, without death we are only a mere shell with no soul. This flower in my hand, it's beautiful.”

“Are you trying to say that the flower is beautiful Because death is beautiful?”

The first man thought for a bit “yes, maybe I am. If death is what gives us meaning, what makes life worth living, maybe it is beautiful.”

“No, that can't be right. By your logic we should all seek death since you say it might just be the most beautiful of them all.”

“no no. You misunderstood my point. Us having an end is what makes everything we do worth our time. I'm not telling you to seek death, I'm telling you to quit fearing it and seeing it as the forever evil. Maybe, just maybe, even seen as something beautiful.”

The last bit of the sunset that could be seen went under the horizon and both of the men got up and went home, leaving the flower on the ground to be swept up by the Wind.