In the backyard is a Mango tree that stood tall on fertile earth. We have buried a few of our deceased pet dogs beneath that tree and I remember doing that at least once and cried a few times. Whenever it rained, the earth would turn into mud. My brother, sister and I would pretend that those pools of water in the mud were dinosaur tracks. And as if our brains tuned in to a single thought, we started screaming and climbing the Mango tree for dear life because we imagined a T-Rex would appear from nowhere. There was no dinosaur cry however, just the roar of heavy rain. Then we all stopped to catch our breaths and started laughing. Now this is just a memory because last time I went visited home, it was paved so the ground is now hard and grey.
My sister kept the smaller room with the double decker interesting. Beneath the top deck, were photos of her. When I was home from the dormitory, I would lay on the lower deck to take a rest and all I could see were different versions of her. Because she loved sports, there was also a basketball jersey hanging from the "ceiling." Even the door to that room has her name on it decorated with a few stringed beads.
Home is now a little lonely with all three of us away from it. Any day, I would trade writing on this page for screaming over invisible dinosaurs and eating colored oatmeal.