#1 That morning, I was von ylq 12.08.2019 03:47

That morning, I was lying in bed, and I heard a group of wild thrushes outside the window calling me to slouched on the window sill, thinking of the thrush with a spectacular sight, singing in a tree. Thinking, thinking. Only a little cool feeling that the water vapor slipping out of the window, a little blocked my pores, chills infiltrated the blood, irritating my sleepy eyes. So I simply widened my eyes and smothered my nose with my nose. Only then did I notice that the thrush of the window was covered with thick water mist. The rest was an ink painting that was soaked in water, but it was slightly distant. Dynamic vitality. The thrush outside the window is still calling in the branches. I seem to think that the thrush in my intention is all, yellow, green, and does not admit defeat, calling for the happiness of this season, but at the moment, I feel lost. It��s not because I heard the thrush being so cheerful and lost. The loss is because I don��t have the ability to see it. I can only find the wild thrush by the sly spots Carton Of Cigarettes. The happiness in my heart then turns around and closes my eyes. I only use the sense of hearing to stimulate the sensitive brain, let the sound of the wild thrush sway in the atrium, and I see the group of oily thrushes on the branches, seeing that they are facing the sun, holding their petite heads, facing The sky sings, though I don't know what they sang? I hope it will be the yearning for the birds! Sometimes, they stripped the wings of their companions in harmony. Sometimes, they were like arguing, screaming and smacking their wings, then flew together and never returned! The spectator's thrush is just gazing, a arrogant appearance, a little bit of smug signs, and I don't know Marlboro Red, all of this will be earned by the people. It was they that left the most pure and beautiful call in the morning Newport 100S, the sound was like water and tenderness... Just as I was immersed in this, the silence was broken by the subsequent gunshots, only the one that fell from the branches, like autumn The lonely leaves in the wind in the day did not enjoy the yellowness of the autumn, but they couldn��t help but die. I was so sad that I thought about it. I used to wear cuffs and wiped the tears to show my respect. The subsequent gunshots still fell. There will be a new life, their innocence, I will regret it, but my heart will hate it. The source of the gun will be punished by God. I don��t know, tears are like the dripping water of the eyes, a little bit drop. Looking around, the branches are still, and the surviving thrush has gone. Look closely, only two of them stand quietly in the branches, I don��t know why they are still standing, for the sake of both sides, or waiting for what is happening at this moment, there is a temperature, subconsciously stepping on my face, and getting hotter, I opened my eyes and found that the drop of water atomized as the green end of the branch was learning to drop at a certain moment. The thrush was still ringing. As the sound looked, the low branch stood. Not the only two remaining thrushes? They flew out of my heart and entered my eyes... The thrush is still standing, the thrush is getting more and more
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