Chen Cu did not attend Xu Man's funeral.
He looked at the man's smile in the black and white photo through the gap between the tombstones——
Seventeen-year-old Xu Man stood under the street lamp, his green eyebrows curved into a line, and said: "Brother Cu, go home."
***
The last can of beer floated in the cold light of the refrigerator, and the scent of sandalwood mixed with fruit tea seeped into the dream.
The doctor asked: "Why are you here?"
He replied: "Because I hate him."
"Really?"
Concept: The widow's monologue
