A wood chair, was made by my grandfather who had passed away many years ago, had a red horse body and two black eyes. My grandfather painted colorful clouds on the chair base, fixed on four legs by two curved boards. Then he put it on the ground, sat down on a bench with my grandmother under a tall plane tree in front of their gate. They stayed at the other world.
One night, I had a dream about them. I met my grandmother who was alone under the plane tree and pointed to a opened door to tell me where my grandfather was when I asked her.
Grandfather held a color palette as a painter, absorbed painting the wood chair. When I passaged through space and time standing before him, he looked at me peacefully as if he was waiting for me here for a long time.
In my dream, autumnal sunshine slanted down through green leaves in the porch. Grandfather made a perfect picture. His figure had a halo around him casting soft shadows. The brightly colored wood horse chair seemed to come alive.
Then I thought I don’t want to wake up.
There were so many things I want but didn’t get in my childhood, like balloons, pretty doll, tops, gum, wood chair and child’s tracycle. Those childish ideas faded from my memory as time went by. Long-past relatives occasionally showed up in my dreams. Sometimes my grandmother held sweet candies in her palms; and sometimes my cousin carried a top waving to me.
Perhaps this is a kind of compensation for my unfulfilled wishes.
