MOTHERLAND

i opened my eyes and remembered something good. i had a dream about the motherland. a vision, if you will. a cluster of colourful houses fitted in the green. it was august. nobody was lamenting the missed rain anymore. from a castle, after failing to capture the houses on my camera, i inform my father of something:

"you worked hard to get out of here, but i'm moving back."

"you want to leave cities behind?"

"this is a city," i gesture around us, "but nature keeps things balanced. you're just too urban, having lived in bigger cities your whole life."

i don't remember his reaction, but i'll see it for myself in this life.