My father died years before. As an old peasant, there's not anything between he and fashion. But in a night after his death, I dreamt he's in fashion.
He's in a good suit, standing upright in yard east to kitchen, like a model in dress stores. At that time, my mother was making breakfast, my brother was ending cleaning yard, and my sisters were clean up rooms. I saw my father from window of the east room, so I rushed into him. I held his legs and cried:" Father, you are back! How is it going?" He lowered his head, smiling to me, but said nothing. "Come on, father's back!" I cried to the others.
The moment I waked up. Tears came out from my eyes, went to my face, my ears, my neck, and others. I can't lie any more, so I got up and went into living room. I was so ached that cried out.
My wife was made got up. She came and said:" You didn't cry so violently all the funeral time, so I think that was you. But now here you are. "
I went out to go to work. Tears didn't stop until my company came into my eyes.
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