On the day of my husband's funeral, my relatives and I sent him up the mountain.
I watched him being put into the coffin, until the ashes of paper money smoked my eyes.
I escaped from the last fireworks ceremony and hid in the creek behind to smoke a cigarette. After the funeral ceremony, I ran to the food stall and drank so much that I vomited all over the floor.
When I woke up from my bedroom the next day, I stretched and hit something with my right hand.
Based on my years of experience, that should be 99% abdominal muscles.
I'm thinking about who is favored by me? I turned around and looked: Husband? Husband! Aren't you dead?
[1V1, first person perspective, short story]
[Stay tuned]
Purpose: Cherish the people in front of you