I always have dreams about my grandmother's house, where I spent part of my childhood. There was no living room or bathroom in the house. In fact, the bathroom was 30 feet from the house. There were just two rooms connected by a door; you needed to pass through the first one to reach the second. The first room was the kitchen. The other was the bedroom. In one half of the room was the bed, which was made from wood and feathers. A string for the light was above the middle of the bed. If I pulled it, the light turned on, pulled it again, the light turned off. I can still hear my grandmother yelling at me to stop pulling it. I can still smell the dust on the window sill. It smelled like dry grass, which made relaxed and happy. My grandmother used to prepare corn soup for me in the morning. The smell, which was sweet, woke me up every day.

There were two big windows in the bedroom which were like big eyes, bright and clean. I liked to sit there and look out through the windows on to the large farmland which filled my whole field of view with tender green. I wondered if somebody had poured the color on it.

The chicken coop was on the left on the house. I felt it was much fancier that our house, as it had two stories. My favorite thing was picking up the eggs, which made me very pleased. The eggs were warm and pretty. There was a small yard around the house with trees on the right side, straight and neat, which had been planted by my grandmother. During the fall, I could hear the ants passing by. The wind howled and helped the trees to undress their leaves. The leaves fell down on the ground; it was light and quiet. All of a sudden, the color of the ground turned to gold, and when you stepped there, the crispy leaves made a voice, like they were singing and telling you winter was coming.

Have you ever smelled the dirt with rain in the countryside? I have.

As soon as the rain and dirt mix together, the strong scent comes to you immediately. It is the smell of earth's body, which was so fresh. I liked to walk around during the evening. I saw smoke from the kitchen chimmeys in each little house; it smelled like my grandmother holding me in her arms. I felt safe, soft and eternal. I have a dream, which is to recover back my grandmother's house somehow. This house now is edified inside of me, where I made my sweet home, which I belong to and will never let it vanish.