If, at the time of my demise, no one has come to claim my body, leave it in the sun to fester and disintegrate. Let the animals take me, let the wind extract me, let the ground absorb me. If no one heeds these instructions, let best judgment prevail. I am no longer there.

My vessel, once valuable, should be recycled. My loving shelter which housed me for some span of time cannot much go on as a whole. Let it go from whence it came. And I shall too. Not of this world, I wouldn’t stay here forever. It’s incongruous, unnatural.

There is nothing to mourn. I wept.