The house where my brother lived

I went to the house where my brother had lived and the company where he had worked in Tokyo. I saw the sceneries he had seen and met the people he had met.

On the way of this, I only found his attitude to work silently and to enjoy drinking after work. Well, when he drunk, he sometimes called me and my mother and said to send a gift to us the next day.

At last, I could not find the proof that he had lived happily. But I noticed that I had looked for it not for him but for me to decrease my sense of guilt not to make him happy when he was alive as his sister.

At the bus stop I found his watch ticked precisely, and in the bus among blue sweaty workers like him, I saw oleander shrubs along the street he might see if he hadn't die.

This funeral procession reminded me of my sister's funeral 12 years ago. The fallen cherry blossom in puddle saw off my sister. I wonder what flower will see me off when I die.