I kept waiting, and when the hibiscus blossomed, he might be coming.
Those unforgiven and irredeemable people and things gradually turned into smoke and disappeared. Perhaps it was because time was running out, but I suddenly felt at ease. Just remind Arlo every day to remember to take care of the flower waiter, to remember to clean the room, and to remember to bury more jars of wine under the plum tree. Sometimes, on a whim, I would send Arlo to find some puppies to keep in the courtyard. Arlo complained quite a bit about this. After all, I only talked about it, but made her work hard.
Recently, I always lean on a wicker chair alone, imitating the elderly people and closing my eyes to meditate. Maybe Arlo wakes up one day and finds me dead. I can't help but find it interesting when I think about it. But I'm also a little sad. After all, I don't know if I can wait for the day he arrives.