A milkshake to remember

His house feels empty, but it isn't any emptier than it always is.

Ice cream, milk, mint. Blend. Pour.

He sighs. He accidentally doubled the recipe.

The comforting mint hits his tongue. His shoulders relax.

Another sip.

A pause.

He remembers he hates mint.

A thought.

Memory erasure.

He'd have made them promise not to use that app on him. The memories were of them, but they were his.

Yet he feels the comfort of someone he doesn't remember with every sip.

Each is proof to him.

He drinks it all hoping to remember.

He doesn't.

Only the dregs remain.