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e into three days an
The younger one left home and the boss returned, the local accent remained
unchanged. When the children do not know each other, they ask where the guests
come fr om. ����Inscription The weather in Hangzhou this year is very strange. It
will change into three days and two days, and the camphor tree outside the
window has suffered a lot of crimes. Although it was spring, the leaves fell a
lot, and overnight, the ground was covered with a thick layer of green leaves.
On the whim, I wanted to pick up a few leaves for bookmarking. As soon as I
looked up, a leaf just fell down, and once I reached out, it fell into my hands
well, and I observed carefully that the meridians were intertwined, and it was
still a vibrant emerald green. On this cement floor without temperature. Vaguely
remembered, the cherry tree in the yard of my hometown was in this season. There
are already a full tree of cherries hanging on the tree, the red ones are often
on top, a string of red hairs with temptation, even birds It's all about to eat.
Therefore, in order to grab food from birds, I always lead a few friends to
climb the tree to pick cherry. At that time Marlboro Cigarettes, I didn't look like
a girl, like a wild boy, climbing up a tree, like a monkey, walking around the
branches, and throwing red fruits into the pockets of my friends. At this time,
grandma often shouted, "Be careful, don't fall." I said a while, and then
crawled down until my pocket was full. Freshly picked cherries do not need to be
washed, and the clothes are tucked into the mouth. Tired of playing, leaning on
the tree, watching the mottled blue sky through the leaves Marlboro Lights, so dazzling, and
gradually, lethargic ..... have been away from home for seven years Wholesale Cigarettes, never went
back once during that time Has it changed? Are all your friends OK? Is the
cherry tree still alive? No one knows. "Children don't know each other". Will I
be asked "where did the guest come from" like He Zhizhang when I return to my
hometown? A gust of wind lifted the leaves on the ground, like a group of
butterflies swirling in the air, slowly drifting away. The leaf in my hand did
not know when I left my hand, and if I did not know it, my memory would follow I
don't know wh ere that leaf floated.
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