The Red String

There was a town where everyone wore a red string around their wrist.
No one knew who started it.
No one knew why it was red.
They just tied it on when they were born, and kept it there.

When the string got dirty, they replaced it.
When it got tight, they loosened it.
When someone asked the meaning, the answer was always the same:

“It’s just what we do here.”

One day, a child took his off.
He didn’t announce it.
He didn’t make a statement.
He just forgot to put it back on after bathing.

People noticed.

Some said it was disrespectful.
Some said it was dangerous.
Some said nothing at all, but stared a little longer than usual.

Weeks passed.
The child kept living.
Nothing happened.

Another person took theirs off.
Then another.
Then nobody talked about it anymore.

The strings didn’t fall away all at once.
They just slowly became optional.

Some people still wore them.
Some didn’t.