Mom's Diary Was Updated at Three O'clock in the Morning

I squatted under the dim light of the attic, wiping the dust on my mother's urn. Cancer took away this woman who always pursed her lips. Her last words were so stingy that she could only say: "Burn them clean." A dark green velvet diary suddenly slipped out of the carton, and the keyhole was stained with rust. I recognized this notebook - when I was seventeen, I once spied her writing at her desk in the middle of the night, but when I questioned her, she threw it into the fireplace in front of me. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.