Vorstellung » and the mottled scener

Cut a warm memory and make time look antique. The breeze blew a light fragrance. I looked down and sniffed, a familiar feeling lingering in my heart. That's your favorite taste, and the entanglement of entanglements and bunches gradually awakened me. In those days, there were you, me, and endless poetry and fragrance. You always like to sit with me under the tree for an afternoon Parliament Cigarettes. Watch Yu Hua behind the sunset and listen to the evening wind blowing Cheap Cigarettes. Holding the falling pear flower, rubbing it lightly at the fingertips. That elegant pear scent also points you to thick calluses to cross the incense. In memory, I always love to hold you and sniff the scent of that branch.���� You always pretend to be serious and serious: "No, my good-granddaughter, I have a bad waist." And I was not sensible at that time, and I was very stubborn. I just wanted you to hug me, and you were helpless He smiled, and said strangely, "Hey, you child," it was so helpless. You will always say this half sentence, and you will never complete it. Pear blossoms came down one after another, dotted my childhood, and that sweet memory. Later, I learned that this memory is warm with you, and this day, you have endless poetry. In those days, there were you, me, and endless poetry and moonlight. When night comes, you also love to take me to sit under the pear tree. Xia Ye was very quiet, I only heard the screams of worms, and your humming. Long, long, drifting into my atrium. The bright moonlight slowly poured down like a clear spring, and fell unhurtly into your hair. The white glare and white translucency made me unable to distinguish whether it was white hair or moonlight Marlboro Red, and also made the moon indistinguishable whether it was moonlight or white hair. You just hold me like this, sing quietly, and pat me from time to time. The moonlight was cut into broken shadows through the branches, and the mottled scenery of the ground was mottled, and the sparse shadows slid silently beside you and me. At that time, the years were quiet, the love you gave me was justd I a good time, an would sing. It gradually sang all the joys and sorrows, and sang the memory of the memory. But what can't be erased is the gentle and poetic time you gave me in those days. The poetic time was gentle and enviable. Because you and me are there. It will be full of charm
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