One month old, with a face so soft and eyes so bright I brought you home. Three years of quiet love followed: soft meows at the door, warm weight on my lap, a house that finally felt alive. Then your body grew tired, and your eyes changed. I still hoped. I came home from a party that night, heart light only to find the silence waiting. In the corner, you were already gone. No goodbye. Just stillness. Thank you for the years you filled with warmth. Rest gently, Mimo. You are still loved. ---MIMO by YIN---