Dream House

I have a dream house. I dreamt about it just last night. It looks like the second storey of perhaps an old shophouse, elongated space and large windows with off-white wooden frames that's now barely covered since the old paint had fallen with time. It was an empty house. Only the greenish concrete floor, the high white ceilings, long parallel walls and soft sunlight through the closed windows. It was raining. Water seeped through the base section of the wooden frame. The wood was moist and with moss. I walked towards the window, the tiny streams of rainwater reached my feet. It was serene and romantic.

I've always thought my dream house would be one by the beach, stepping onto soft white sand and sea breeze in my face.