Raise. Show: Ben. Chapter. For. Defend. Steal. Chapter. section, true. Correct. Inside. Appearance. Only. Yes. At. Longitudinal. Across. Middle. Line. Net. Village. Target. Correct. Edition. "Fear. Fear. Machine. Field. Just. Can. See. Look, longitudinal. Across. Net. Village. Target. Correct. Edition. Read. He who. As. Hair. Appear. Not. Law. Read. Read, half. Small. Time. After. Brush. New. Namely. Can.

I have always missed the time when I measured my mood with tears and laughter in my diary, and there are still warm memories in the alleys I had to pass at that time.

I still remember the chalk sign in the kiosk, and in the summer it would add the words "cold drinks for sale", but now when I walk into the alley, it has completely changed: the kind uncle who sells socks at the entrance of the alley is pulling a straw fan with his eyes half-closed, comfortably bathing in the sun. I'd buy an ice cream at the end of school and bounce home. But the old refrigerator had long since changed beyond recognition, and the sliding wheels were crawling with rust. There are also those gorgeous signboards selling clothes and shoes, which have turned white from the rain or the passage of time. Like an ancient alley, not an ancient alley.

I always remember that I was afraid of rain, afraid of rain at night, and that potholed dirt road was a pain for me to return home late. Back in the alley, the alley is bright and the same as the day. The dirt road became smooth and hard, and there was no more fear of stepping on the air, and there were no more trouser legs splashed with mud beans.

I think of the partners who always play together, I like to tinker with the sparrow's nest together, and sometimes I will pick up a few sparrow eggs or catch a bald sparrow waiting to be fed, the hair has not yet grown, and the body is slippery and a little scary. Now I've just run the whole alley, and I haven't seen a single sparrow fly by. Did time take away them, or did we force them away?

Occasionally, I would bump into some old acquaintances in the alleys, and those aunts and aunts who would always hug me affectionately when I was a child and compliment me on my good looks. I still remember the earthy smell of them, and my face seems to have the warmth of their kiss. Now they look at each other, but they can no longer shout cordially: Morning!

Time it turned green plantains, red cherries, sighs and has been like a dazzling and ephemeral meteor, I can no longer grasp many things, walk so fast, how can I not stop the footsteps and wait for me who is still asleep.

I have always missed the time when I measured my mood with tears and laughter in my diary, and there are still warm memories in the alleys I had to pass at that time.

I still remember the chalk sign in the kiosk, and in the summer it would add the words "cold drinks for sale", but now when I walk into the alley, it has completely changed: the kind uncle who sells socks at the entrance of the alley is pulling a straw fan with his eyes half-closed, comfortably bathing in the sun. I'd buy an ice cream at the end of school and bounce home. But the old refrigerator had long since changed beyond recognition, and the sliding wheels were crawling with rust. There are also those gorgeous signboards selling clothes and shoes, which have turned white from the rain or the passage of time. Like an ancient alley, not an ancient alley.

I always remember that I was afraid of rain, afraid of rain at night, and that potholed dirt road was a pain for me to return home late. Back in the alley, the alley is bright and the same as the day. The dirt road became smooth and hard, and there was no more fear of stepping on the air, and there were no more trouser legs splashed with mud beans.

Remembering to always be together

play

Playing buddies like to tinker with sparrownests together, sometimes picking up a few sparrow eggs or catching bald sparrows waiting to be fed, the hair has not yet grown, and the body is slippery and a little scary. Now I've just run the whole alley, and I haven't seen a single sparrow fly by. Did time take away them, or did we force them away?

Occasionally, I would bump into some old acquaintances in the alleys, and those aunts and aunts who would always hug me affectionately when I was a child and compliment me on my good looks. I still remember the earthy smell of them, and my face seems to have the warmth of their kiss. Now they look at each other, but they can no longer shout cordially: Morning!

Time it turned green plantains, red cherries, sighs and has been like a dazzling and ephemeral meteor, I can no longer grasp many things, walk so fast, how can I not stop the footsteps and wait for me who is still asleep. I have always missed the time when I measured my mood with tears and laughter in my diary, and there are still warm memories in the alleys I had to pass at that time.

I still remember the chalk sign in the kiosk, and in the summer it would add the words "cold drinks for sale", but now when I walk into the alley, it has completely changed: the kind uncle who sells socks at the entrance of the alley is pulling a straw fan with his eyes half-closed, comfortably bathing in the sun. I'd buy an ice cream at the end of school and bounce home. But the old refrigerator had long since changed beyond recognition, and the sliding wheels were crawling with rust. There are also those gorgeous signboards selling clothes and shoes, which have turned white from the rain or the passage of time. Like an ancient alley, not an ancient alley.

I always remember that I was afraid of rain, afraid of rain at night, and that potholed dirt road was a pain for me to return home late. Back in the alley, the alley is bright and the same as the day. The dirt road became smooth and hard, and there was no more fear of stepping on the air, and there were no more trouser legs splashed with mud beans.

I think of the partners who always play together, I like to tinker with the sparrow's nest together, and sometimes I will pick up a few sparrow eggs or catch a bald sparrow waiting to be fed, the hair has not yet grown, and the body is slippery and a little scary. Now I've just run the whole alley, and I haven't seen a single sparrow fly by. Did time take away them, or did we force them away?

Occasionally, I would bump into some old acquaintances in the alleys, and those aunts and aunts who would always hug me affectionately when I was a child and compliment me on my good looks. I still remember the earthy smell of them, and my face seems to have the warmth of their kiss. Now they look at each other, but they can no longer shout cordially: Morning!

Time it turned green plantains, red cherries, sighs and has been like a dazzling and ephemeral meteor, I can no longer grasp many things, walk so fast, how can I not stop the footsteps and wait for me who is still asleep. I have always missed the time when I measured my mood with tears and laughter in my diary, and there are still warm memories in the alleys I had to pass at that time.

I still remember the chalk sign in the kiosk, and in the summer it would add the words "cold drinks for sale", but now when I walk into the alley, it has completely changed: the kind uncle who sells socks at the entrance of the alley is pulling a straw fan with his eyes half-closed, comfortably bathing in the sun. I'd buy an ice cream at the end of school and bounce home. But the old refrigerator had long since changed beyond recognition, and the sliding wheels were crawling with rust. And those who sell clothes and shoes

The gaudy signboards, I don't know whether they are washed by the rain or the passage of time, have turned white. Like an ancient alley, not an ancient alley.

I always remember that I was afraid of rain, afraid of rain at night, and that potholed dirt road was a pain for me to return home late. Back in the alley, the alley is bright and the same as the day. The dirt road became smooth and hard, and there was no more fear of stepping on the air, and there were no more trouser legs splashed with mud beans.

I think of the partners who always play together, I like to tinker with the sparrow's nest together, and sometimes I will pick up a few sparrow eggs or catch a bald sparrow waiting to be fed, the hair has not yet grown, and the body is slippery and a little scary. Now I've just run the whole alley, and I haven't seen a single sparrow fly by. Did time take away them, or did we force them away?

Occasionally, I would bump into some old acquaintances in the alleys, and those aunts and aunts who would always hug me affectionately when I was a child and compliment me on my good looks. I still remember the earthy smell of them, and my face seems to have the warmth of their kiss. Now they look at each other, but they can no longer shout cordially: Morning!

Time it turned green plantains, red cherries, sighs and has been like a dazzling and ephemeral meteor, I can no longer grasp many things, walk so fast, how can I not stop the footsteps and wait for me who is still asleep. I have always missed the time when I measured my mood with tears and laughter in my diary, and there are still warm memories in the alleys I had to pass at that time.

I still remember the chalk sign in the kiosk, and in the summer it would add the words "cold drinks for sale", but now when I walk into the alley, it has completely changed: the kind uncle who sells socks at the entrance of the alley is pulling a straw fan with his eyes half-closed, comfortably bathing in the sun. I'd buy an ice cream at the end of school and bounce home. But the old refrigerator had long since changed beyond recognition, and the sliding wheels were crawling with rust. There are also those gorgeous signboards selling clothes and shoes, which have turned white from the rain or the passage of time. Like an ancient alley, not an ancient alley.

I always remember that I was afraid of rain, afraid of rain at night, and that potholed dirt road was a pain for me to return home late. Back in the alley, the alley is bright and the same as the day. The dirt road became smooth and hard, and there was no more fear of stepping on the air, and there were no more trouser legs splashed with mud beans.

I think of the partners who always play together, I like to tinker with the sparrow's nest together, and sometimes I will pick up a few sparrow eggs or catch a bald sparrow waiting to be fed, the hair has not yet grown, and the body is slippery and a little scary. Now I've just run the whole alley, and I haven't seen a single sparrow fly by. Did time take away them, or did we force them away?

Occasionally, I would bump into some old acquaintances in the alleys, and those aunts and aunts who would always hug me affectionately when I was a child and compliment me on my good looks. I still remember the earthy smell of them, and my face seems to have the warmth of their kiss. Now they look at each other, but they can no longer shout cordially: Morning!

Time it turned green plantains, red cherries, sighs and has been like a dazzling and ephemeral meteor, I can no longer grasp many things, walk so fast, how can I not stop the footsteps and wait for me who is still asleep.

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