Why Should I Be Kind to You?

I cremated Mojo.

I had wanted to bury it in the ground, but I was afraid the stray dogs would dig it up.

After cremation, Mojo's ashes were placed in a small box. Ava drove while I sat in the passenger seat, holding the box in my arms.

Ava said, "Anson, you..."

"You don't have to comfort me. I'm not that sad..." I stroked the box and added softly, "Actually, Mojo is happier than I am. It's back with Zara."

Mojo went home.

But what about me?

I was such a loser. I failed to keep the last of my wife's treasures.

Who would give me hope of waking up when I fell asleep at night?

Who would spend the day with me when I woke up in the morning?

I ended up alone. I could only rely on vague memories to avoid despair. I realized that I was already a person who could only survive in this world through memories.

Back to my building, I went upstairs with the small box.

There was a woman at my door. She tried to open the door with a key, but she couldn't.