I seem to have had a dream.

I dreamed that I was a very young child running in the fields in the mountains. The strong father sat at the edge of the field and looked at a piece of golden rice. The sky and the mountain seemed to be connected. The dusk and the rice reflected each other. The father smiled and said that when he paid the tuition for his children, he could buy two more pigs to raise.

I stood beside my father in a trance, and my mother came from the other side of the path, carrying three large stainless steel lunch boxes. The old lunch boxes...