With the waves flowing, such as rolling over and over time is to look not at the end of the water, and I will try various devices to frolic with you, at the time, or a non fusion of any emotional proximity, but when the quiet, when no longer issued Dong sound, I found, oneself unexpectedly vaguely not she.
As the years to break the bowl, a child squatting on the ground, the flow of tears, heart waiting for my mother's punishment, but also to all go back, but that bowl has to be split, the color of the color pattern, as over time, become old, lonely, as a piece of clear debris, mess the child's eyes reflected.
This is a year away, lose one thing, and I've lost childhood.
Junior high school, I think out after six years of career of the iron gate, then covered with rust hollow column, the last time in my black clothes, put on the first footprint passing thoughts.
- 2013/10/23(水) 10:30:38|