I had a dream last night where we playing life size Scrabble. I pushed Scrabble tiles, each the size of a small blackboard. ‘Wreck’, that’s the word I made.

It got me a lot of points but you made fun of me for being out of shape. You threw your head back and said, “Weak person!” I remember being mad at you and saying, “Why don’t we see you move some tiles around, if you’re so strong.” And you did, with enviable ease. I don’t remember what word you made, but knowing you, it was probably worth a hundred points.

I woke up, my mind was still caught somewhere between the large scrabble tiles.

I thought of how we’d play Scrabble online; a monsoon three years ago. I remember how much fun I had playing, even though you always won. That was a first, up until then I was annoyingly competitive and enjoyed a game only if I won. You always amazed me with how well you played; an extra letter somewhere, a fifty extra points and a whole lot of awe.

Some things will remain unchanged. Even a decade later, if we sit down and play a game, you’ll still win. And for a long long time to come, if some says Scrabble, my thoughts will instantly find you.