Croque Au Sel is, or rather was, my cat. The vehicle was killed this morning was done properly, without it rolling over. As with other cats I had before him, I saw him in the middle of the street that passes under my window, a puddle of blood under her head. Some vehicles were passing over him, a wheel on each side, others to avoid dislocation. So, I came out still in her bathrobe to evacuate. I did not want to pick up the mashed cat later.
Yes I know, who cares and I readily grant you, this is a microscopic event. Evidence, it does not even cut my appetite tonight. Tomorrow Tuesday, there are garbage collection and trash will serve as a coffin tonight. Contrary to what has been suggested to me, I did not bury in the garden. Not that I did not like this cat, however, but from his point of view to him, it makes no difference.
I am an infidel, or rather an agnostic. When my father has "decided" there almost 18 years, finally falling asleep while reading a common tool catalog (which was rather ironic that the scholar was), I do not think either party to a "beyond". He died and that's it. He was cremated to respect the wishes he could probably not be his last, and then left with a small urn warm. From his point of view to him, it was no longer any difference. When
I die in my turn, I do not care to know fully what will happen to my body. I only ask one thing ... (who by the way?), I want to die after my mother and my children before. If more I could know all my children before I leave, I'd be filled.
I can not tell you or goodbye or farewell, Croque Au Sel, it would be incoherent. I just hope you had time to reproduce before you leave, it's the only important thing that you and I have had to do on this earth.
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