I think I had a child, it must look long rain, the mountains and plains of the rain tight while, sparse burst, burst ... ... dark space, but also bright. Friendly and bleak memories. Then ... ... then ... ... must have been sitting in the hall, in Flanagan's mahogany pillars under the coarse, black gold of the screen before the child's eyes from deep in the yard try to look out those fine The rain depression Department Dangkai vortex pattern ... ...
It was inherited from our ancestors great Zhaizi, in front of two Shishou was stroke was smooth and bright and clean. Brick yard, rain water when the adults are not allowed to go on, afraid of the old moss slip below their feet. Children are not allowed to go in the attic -
In fact, some of the above is just a big wooden box with brass lock, aged dust in the old sleeping in the sun, looked out from the carved sash is the opposite roof on the vine hay. Autumn, there lazily basking in children's shoes, sienna red, TANSEI, and plenty of pink in the face pick flowers with gold thread on the hydrangea. Occasionally birds to, pecking about in the above, calls out, then stood motionless, makes one wonder it fell asleep.
Mom packed suitcase that time each year, a small room full of clean, warm smell of old clothes, paper out of the window is washed off the north as the clear fall, I wear dark red corduroy jacket, a small Heye Bian , mother to two tails and son to me rolled up, fastened with a light green in the silk, a small mirror in a navy blue ground according to another according to Li Zizi. Is a small door small family child have fun.
At that time I was four. Has begun the first year. Watch the daily evening stool
Sister trouble in my opinion is the little devil. She hugged each mother to go and cry to choke gas bicycle tires, roll to get a snack. Jasper Bob lost grandmother. And large rooster pecking a fight was under the scar. Also, grab any of those things with me are my things. The only peaceful meeting when parents go out, power outage, my grandmother tell stories to us some riddles and sisters, a pinch of candle-glass window showing a small yellow spark, afar off up that is outside Which also points out the lights - - Apart from the house, and no other world. Pouring rain outside the window Lang, our nest built up in bed with a quilt pillow fortress, the contented, quiet a grandmother for my touch back, fell asleep.
I do not have friends, just chubby. She rolled round, everyone steal eggs, bring a hornet's nest about one's ears, Pomiao in against another ... ... to escape, she will always be the last one - I was second to last, there is a Xiangyiweiming friendship.
Also fight, two little girls grabbed each other hair, horse is stare, her mother came up to both sides before the resounding cries.
Dinner and from the door flashing her out of joy to the report released the same evening, "Malan Flower."
Micro-purple evening sky, pale month, a few small stool, mother to a hair buy seeds, rolled in a newspaper cone cylinder, the children love to screen the opposite view, the wind came, Yan Fengying the same as the waves gently swing, there is a strange carried away.
The next day the gang take a few Pursuit fans, two long towels take charge in the arm sleeves, pick several flower tuberose stick forehead, pull out the roots when the pendant with silk to 忽悠, holding chamber was potential to play an old man one young lady, called "Betty" tea, chubby head sticking out of a bonus Liulv, hospitality should be a. Hindsight, "Chibi Maruko" Xiaoyu play small ball and play the "married woman", two people look real, chirp and smile, "Oh yo yo ... ... Mrs. Lee." Sometimes a child I thought all kind of gossip around the world.
Mother transfer to another job, her family moved to teach school. I wound up in fourth grade and is the father opened a small luggage left behind after complete drug pretty small pill, it contained several coins. There is a "Three Hundred Tang Poems," I time favorite is "春眠不觉晓, Europe and the Americas ... ..." carved with a knife in a small bed of white powder on the wall.
In the future to see Lin painting "Spring." Hyacinth and Bits of Gold in the morning, a few quiet Blackbird stood without a word. Heart, endless shock, this is the childhood years, the atmosphere of early spring in March.
I painted the space in the baby books, all costumes, to their stories.
The new table with the little boy, surnamed Zhou, his paintings are the generals, so every time I access from the front of the seat behind him, must be kicking some, a classroom of students silently watched. Coax everyone out of class, I lean on the wall look at these junior-year-old children than I Tiaopi Jin, play sand bags, I do not remember that time have cried, and no one has time to care for a child's joy sadness.
Bum on the day passed, I am a man clothed in white, blue trousers and holding a pile of plastic flowers chanting "Welcome welcome warmly welcome" in the compound with three to four individuals in conjunction with the black and white TV in the "blood in doubt", I learn table tennis, erhu, violin, take a red fan dance, "Troop Sheep", and slowly I sometimes played the young boy named week ... ... but apparently childhood is over.
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