It was when I was five years old and lived in our family’s tiny half-dilapidated apartment. Sometime in the evening after dinner, my mother prepared a bedding for all of us in one room. It was me and my brother’s playroom during the day, but due to the limited space in the house, it turned into our bedroom in the night.
During the winter time, my mother placed a large thick blanket on the top, and when I looked at it in the darkness, its messy wave reminded me of the ocean.
“We are in the middle of ocean!”
I called out to my little brother, who came running to see what I was doing.
There was a small wooden board among our toy collection. It had no particular purpose, but I liked it because of the way it spurred my imagination.
I grabbed that wooden board and threw it on top of the blanket. Now the board looked like a ship sailing in the sea.
“Look! We are sailing in the ocean. Come on!”
I jumped on the wooden board and my brother joined me. Thus the two of us sailed in the wavy ocean feeling like the bravest adventurers.
We continued this brief adventure until my mother called us for the next task of the evening.