There was another funeral procession today in Cozmel. Some forty mourners, at least two weeping brides, and the recently deceased. He was sitting proudly in his sedan chair carried on the shoulders of four young men.

I had met him earlier when I first came to this city. I waved to him and he waved back. “I cannot talk now, I have my funeral to go to! I will meet you later!” he said as he passed.

I nodded and continued on my way to the farmers market. From my understanding this would be his second death in the past ten years.

Later, we met over drinks at a open air cafe on the market’s edge. I tried to call him by his previous name, but he stopped me.

“That man is dead, I am reborn as Saba Reyt,” he said. “Let me pay for these drinks. My previous self left me a tidy sum, after taking care of his family.”

We talked, Saba and I, about his new life and his prospects. He had many plans and dreams, dreams his previous self could not aspire to.

I shook my head. One life to live is more than enough for me.