My friends are afraid of almost everything.

They are afraid of the machine.

They are afraid of the wind in their hair.

They are afraid of their own hearts.

They are afraid of losing time.

They are afraid of not having lunch at the same time every day.

They are afraid of getting sweat.

They are afraid of touching beach sand.

They are afraid of the Sun. Not the star, though, its light.

By the way, my friends are afraid of Sundays too.

My friends are afraid even of new friendships.

My friends are afraid of new faces.

My friends are afraid of new laughs.

My friends are afraid of new love.

My friends are aging in strange ways.

Maybe aging is something worth being afraid of.