I often refer to “my Residua” in my writings. All I have in mind is my magnum opus. But it just crossed my mind that this may be misinterpreted as “my remains.”

Addendum (April 7, 2018)

After my death, my body will be cremated and the ashes will be strewn around a place designated for that purpose by the funeral company at Mirogoj in Zagreb (“Sunny Meadow,” March 1, 2017). Most important, there will be no witnesses and no ceremony. So much for my physical remains, which will vanish without a trace soon after my departure from this mortal coil. As for my writings, my only remains worth talking about at this stage of my life, I will do my best to ensure that they will physically survive me for the benefit of my successors (“Communicating with My Future Self: A Note on Writing,” February 25, 2017). To this end, I have already copyedited all my writings to the best of my ability, though I am fully aware that there is no way to ensure that there are no boo-boos left (“The Indomitable Boo-Boos,” February 18, 2018). Returning to my haiku, the title of my Residua cannot possibly be misinterpreted. Behold, my remains!