Rhining was the kind of town where nobody knew anybody but there wasn’t much to tell. Nothing really happened but a newspaper was printed everyday. There were no strangers, no mysteries, no conspiracies, and certainly no burglaries. If you replaced any country town in any movie with a picture of Rhining, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. Rhining was nobody’s dream.
Just like in any other town, very normal people lived here. There was a landlord who kept certain lavish ways, a local pub that was always full, and the usual horde of running children who peeled with laughter for no particular reason. There was also a hero. But he was dead.
He had died in October, a year or two ago, defending his little town against the rare army of a country hoodlum. And though he fought them bravely, he fought them to death.
It was October. And since no one knew just the day their hero had died, they commemorated his memory the entire month. Though the intent was to celebrate his life, they all ended up mourning his end. And that is how they renamed October… October Pain.
Now a year or two later, as the people were celebrating the mournful death, they got news that the President of the country was coming to visit.
At first, they were angry that the President had the time to visit while half the country rotted with shoddy healthcare services. Then they were all sad that he should come when they were mourning their hero for none could be merry and the President might take offense. And finally, they were all anxious because the crop had failed and they had nothing to offer the President but beer.
October Pain was no joke.