My aunt died. When the fluorescent line on the oscillogram of the heart monitor flattened, I was not with my aunt. I went to the garden outside the ward to smoke a cigarette, and then sat down on the bench in the deserted lounge. Just dozed off and fell asleep there. When the doctor woke me up, my aunt had stopped breathing for a while, the light in the lounge flickered twice, and a faint smell of Tang pine grass came from the other end of the corridor.I stood up from the bench and followed the doctor into the ward. They had covered my aunt’s face, and two nurses were dismantling various instruments, putting blue cloth covers on them, and turning them as if they had been used. The weapons are usually put away, waiting to be activated when the next patient needs them.

The doctor on duty was a middle-aged man with slender fingers, shiny hair, and sharp-edged face. He looked like an artist rather than a doctor.He carefully copied his hand into the pocket of his white coat, and said to me very understandingly, you are too tired, they have to make records, and there is no time to call you. I nodded.I know they've done a good job. The doctor on duty glanced at the motionless aunt under the white sheet, and suddenly said, should she be cremated? I said, yes, now there is no burial, but cremation. The doctor on duty said, I know, but the newspaper said that there are also sky burials and water burials.

I said, that is Tibet. The doctor on duty said that Tibet is too far away. I said yes. The doctor on duty sighed regretfully, shook his head, and walked away. I know why the doctor on duty sighs.Such sighs have happened many times since my aunt was admitted to this hospital.A story with the same meaning as this sigh is this: the Cultural Bureau where my aunt works once received an artist from abroad. This artist is famous in the circle for his critical aesthetic vision. He works in the Cultural Bureau For three days, during these three days, those young and beautiful actresses in the Cultural Bureau kept dangling in front of his eyes, hoping to attract his attention, but he turned a blind eye.On the day he left the Cultural Bureau, he saw his aunt.His eyes lit up, as if he had been touched by electricity.He murmured, who is this?

In the morning, I came out of the hospital and called home from the public phone booth in front of the hospital. It was Dad who answered the phone.I said to ask my mother to answer the phone.Father put the phone on hold and shouted, your call.Mother came to answer the phone.I said my aunt was gone.Mother didn't speak on the other end of the phone. After a while, she sighed softly and hung up the phone. I also hung up the phone, and then made another call to inform another person of my aunt's death. This time the call was a bit longer, but not too long to be annoying.In the morning, when the fog had just risen, there were not many pedestrians on the street, and a few cars drove past lazily, all of whom seemed to be awake.

After hanging up these two calls and paying the phone bill of one yuan, I went to the food store nearby to buy a freshly baked bread and a bottle of yogurt, and returned to the hospital. I took a nap an hour ago in the lounge I sat down on the bench next to me and waited for my mother and aunt to come. Mother didn't say anything, she just sighed.