Chronicle of the Last Day of 2025

Woken by my mother’s call. Asked whether my friend C’s hospital could prescribe cefdinir. None of the pharmacies in the city had it. The supply at home would last my grandmother one more day.

Asked to order a cake. A small gathering at the tennis court tomorrow required one.

After hanging up, attempted to rest again.

Interrupted by a call from my aunt. The duty-free cigarettes I wanted was brought back from Japan by her friend’s son. Did not want to go out. Began arranging a same-city courier.

Cooked a pack of instant noodles—expired by one month—for breakfast.

Looked through cake shops mini apps. The one I wanted required a 48-hour preorder. No longer possible.

Writing.

Got a call from JT, who works at Hospital A. Her father, absent for over a decade, had suddenly called, saying he was in the ER at Hospital B and wanted her there. She did not want to see that gambling addict. Asked me to contact C at Hospital B to check.

Did so, but completely forgot about the cefdinir.

Checked the stock market briefly. Hundreds of dollars lost.

C asked Q and me to send him a silk banner days ago. No order placed yet.

Q eventually found a shop that could make one the same day. Details finalized together.

Went out. Checked an old house that might be sublet as an exhibition space.

Returned home. Collapsed into the sofa. YouTube, with the intention of a nap.

Slept for half an hour. Woken again by my mother, asking about the cake.

Since she would pass by Sam’s Club on her way home, told her to log into my Sam’s Club account, get into the shop and buy one of their large fruit cakes. Two video calls. Five phone calls. Sam’s was crowded. The cakes were sold out.

Went downstairs. Waited in the garage. Noticed our parking spot number was auspicious. Mostly because the wait lasted twenty minutes.

Hungry. As soon as the car stopped, opened the trunk and ate a Sam’s abalone-and-chicken wrap.

Decided on a cake with mother. Order placed.

Reminded about the cefdinir. Called C. A three-day prescription was possible.

Dropped my mother off at her building on an electric scooter.

Went to meet W. Asked to detour and pick up a package from downstairs at his place.

Afterward, he said he couldn’t get a cab from his school and would take the bus. Waited at the bus stop for fifty minutes.

Watched pedestrians. Watched their asses. Smoked. Barely checked the phone.

W handed over a soft-pack Seven Stars. Gave him a pack of strawberry-flavored slim Marlboros, 1.6 mg. Awful to smoke.

Went for dumplings. Stopped to pack char siu on the way. The owner gifted to W a portion of crispy pork belly that was not usually on the menu.

The dumpling shop owner saw the pork belly and gave us some kimchi, saying it would help cut the grease.

Stopped at a shop selling miscellaneous items. The owner’s dog was named Fish Ball. It did not look like one.

Went to Hospital B to smoke with C. W practiced riding my e-scooter. Did not remember the cefdinir.

Took W to buy a paper bag from a stationery shop to carry the package— a small backpack he was giving his girlfriend.

Went to 7-ELEVEN. Bought a bottle of green tea to wash down the pork belly.

Dropped W off near the nail salon where his girlfriend works.

Returned home. More YouTube.

One hour left until 2026.

Called a car to Hospital B. The driver likely assumed I was medical staff. Very polite.

C prescribed the cefdinir. ER was too warm.

Q arrived with the silk banner. C told us to bring it into the resuscitation room.

Both of us hesitated. It felt as if, once inside, the ones needing resuscitation would be us.

C unfolded the banner. I stood to his right. Q stood to his left. C asked an unc pushing a stretcher to take a photo.

Midnight arrived. New Year’s wishes exchanged. C posted the photo. Liked the photo.

Wanted to go home. Wanted to sleep.♦︎