As I am sitting here on Bì Yù’s cosy couch, listening to her sounds while she makes breakfast, I remember a dream I had last night of my sweet Louis. He was dressed in a blue suit, and he looked so handsome. He was reading to me in Dad’s garden. His words were like yellow flowers, blooming soft petals against my cheek. I felt the earth underneath us turning. We were moving, always moving, but when I put my head on his shoulder, together we were still.