I didn’t have much money–in fact, but a lowly cog in the T education system, I still don’t. So after my parents were cremated I kept their ashes at my local temple; temples allow you to “temporarily” stash remains there if you can’t afford a decent(ish) burial plot. See, when death happens, it is customary to offer proper closure. Which seems to require an expensive whole in the ground.

I didn’t really need closure–it’s such a subjective concept, besides. But, you know, closure is what’ done. So whatever; I stashed my parents in the corner of my aforementioned local temple until I had enough money for closure.

But my particular profession promises no riches–in contrast to, say, selling drugs or sex–so I had to find other means.

I  called K.

“Kill these people.” He named three people. “I’ll give you X dollars and you’ll be able to put your parents to rest.”

So  I did. And I was handsomely compensated, thus. But on my way to get my parents I passed in front of a particular department store that sells things I like.

Three hours later I phoned K again. He seemed to understand. Then he named two more names.