At the age of 3, the father who worked in a small coal mold was buried in the soil because of the landslide. On the day the father was buried, others cried and screamed. He was black and didn’t cry. The grown-up told him that your dad passed away and could never return.
He didn’t talk, just shook his head like a grass in the wind.
He didn’t believe that the father who always used a large palm to stroke him, and his father with a thick beard, would disappear forever, like a non-germinated species. He planted pumpkins with his mother in the open space in front of the house. One seed went down and poured some water. After a while, the young leaves grew, and then the vines covered the shelves, and finally many large melons were produced.