The old woman in apartment 102 died last spring. She died in hospital, alone (she had no family). As Japan's population ages and its birthrate shrinks so-called "lonely deaths" - people dying alone at home only to be discovered later - are becoming a problem. Well, that's not the case with this woman, Matsunaga. She died in hospital of complications from cancer. I didn't know about it until a month after, but I suspected something was up when I hadn't seen her lurking around in her usual manner. I said to people, "Have you seen Matsunaga lurking around in her usual manner lately? Maybe she died inside her apartment and is in there right now. I'm worried about her cat. Who's looking after it?"
After she died her kitchen window was slightly ajar, just as she left it, and the sky blue print curtain there gently wafted in the spring breeze, and I continued thinking about the cat.
Mail soon began to pile up noticeably because there are no family members to tell utility companies, etc., that she's not here. Now it's spilling out of her door slot as you can see.
It's a hard thing to say, but the world is a better place without Matsunaga. She was a hateful, awful creature. I have my reasons for saying so, trust me. Without regret I called her “kuso baba” (shitty old woman, or dirty old hag) even within earshot when the occasion arose. Maybe some people think the same about me. They're probably right.