After all

There was nothing left. She was gone. Kids gone. Friends long abandoned or dead. It felt good to have everything wrapped up, like a tidy kitchen… except a kitchen isn't empty; it's full of anticipation of the things to come. There was nothing left here. This was like a house after the last load is carried out. Memories of things that once were float about but the emptiness is all that remains. And yet, he could still hear laughter and feel the warmth of a hug and see amused eyes rolling. Maybe that was enough. It'd have to be enough.