Mamas Welt
Thema drucken
04.11.2019 07:38
|
Still in the air, flowers, such as the grandmother's face; silk floating, weaving grandmother's dream; ditching, reflecting the shadow of the grandmother. Yuhua��Laughter accompanied by Yuhua, I strode to the grandmother��s home. Grandma saw me and dragged her heavy, curved back to me slowly. I quickly ran over, my grandmother looked at me gently and pleasantly asked: "I lived for a few days?" I didn't talk, just lowered my head and let the sound of "����" sound in my ear because I knew me. I have to go tomorrow. Grandma didn't say anything more. She knew me. My grandmother helped me put down my schoolbag and went to the kitchen to cook Marlboro Cigarettes. I silently looked out the door, the rain did not stop blooming because of my gaze, and the years did not stop moving forward because of my luxury. I look at this flower, I stare at the flower, it looks like a shallow smile, flying fast, and the petals are falling. Grandma gave the food out and the aroma rushed to me. I can't wait to launch a quick offensive against my favorite dish. Grandma smiled shallowly, her wrinkles were undoubtedly engraved on her face, her mouth opened slightly, her eyes were slightly stunned, and the long-lost laugh was like a rain flower blooming on her old cheeks. I also smiled dumbly at the grandmother, then looked at the rain outside the window. The silver needle of the sky was shot by the gods and turned into a thousand silver snakes. It hit the ground and its body became a blooming flower. I silently watched this blooming rain flower, it opened, as the grandmother's face smiled at me. But soon, it was defeated, the petals fell into a burst of rain, and the grandmother's long-lost face rains dreamed that I slept on the bed Newport Cigarettes Coupons, grandmother came in and brought in a cup of tea. I took it with a smile, milk tea entered my body, let warm for a long time in my heart, which is mixed with the care of my grandmother. The two of us enjoyed the rain outside the window. By the blazing streetlights not far away, we can see enough that the ribbons are blown away from the sky by the wind Newport 100S, and they slant the sweet dream of the grandmother. Grandma is sleeping on the side, I am drinking milk tea, watching the face of my grandmother. Every time I go through the years, I will use a sharp knife to engrave a knife on my grandmother's face. I want to stop but I can't help. I went out to the bathroom, but found two pairs of my shoes under the bed, one pair is very old, and the other pair is brand new, and all the memories of the scene come to my heart. In the past, my family was poor, and my grandmother couldn't bear to wear my shoes, but I thought about why I still wear it now. It is probably the diligence of my grandmother, but what is deeper is her longing for her childhood. The rain is particularly dazzling under the light, and they fall from the sky. I closed my eyes and dreamed that they would weave the dream of my life with my grandmother. Rain ditch, shadow, I have to go, grandma is busy and busy. I picked up my schoolbag and just got ready to go. Grandma walked with the smell of milk tea and said, "Give, bring milk tea. I will send you!" I walked out the door with my grandmother, and some places on the ground accumulated a lot of water. , creating a water mirror, the figure of the grandmother in this mirror is filled with two words - sad. My shadow in the water mirror - frowning, tightly locked, delayed to let go, anxious, only the milk tea in the mouth infiltrated the grandmother's infinite beauty. The rain in the sky did not know when it was scattered on the ground with sorrow. I wandered in the ditch of this rainwater collection, stepping on one foot - oh oh oh. The small green trees were blown by the wind, the rain slammed the umbrellas and snorted, they mixed together, accompanied by the rhythm of my and my grandmother��s figure, singing a beautiful symphony. I often keep on my ears. Waiting for the station, the milk tea is finished, and the grandmother has to leave. She turned her head reluctantly, turned back, turned her head, and turned back again. This repeated several times, and the shadow of her grandmother in the rain and fog flowed into the river ditch on the ground. The sadness of the grandmother, the tears of the rain. The rain can't live underground, and I can't stop running. I try my best to race with it, but I lose the memories of the rainy flowers. The rain drifts out of the years; the rain ditch reflects the beauty of the years. |
|
Antworten
