like a white petal, floating silently. My little footprints were gradually
blurred, and I was in the snow. Without stopping, I went straight ahead and went
to the farther village. Behind the parents' whispers, there is no one in the
village. Who wants to leave the warm stove and run into this cold wind? except
me. Stretching out a small hand
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capture a piece of snow, but it is naughty into my palm, no trace
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Gold, only a little water stain, wet, cool, like telling me that it has been
here, stayed . In the vast villages, there are no shadows, including the noisy
geese on weekdays, the cocks that are giggling, the puppies that are arrogant,
and they suddenly disappear. Between heaven and earth, beauty, quiet. My young
heart, as if I also feel the extreme of the heavens and the earth, and the joy
and snow are still falling, there is a very light and very soft sound, like the
grandmother of the dream. The village is too quiet, I feel like I am lingering
in the land of Taikoo. But I am satisfied with this silence. Since I was a
child, I was a child who loves fantasy. I always like to be sad and sad in the
scenarios I imagined. My 7-year-old sister is already a beautiful woman, and my
brothers are like proud and upright poplars. I am a ugly duckling who loves to
dream. Under their glaring light, tears and surprises, no one cares about the
little confusion and sadness in my little head. But now, in such a pure world, I
can still hear my breath. In such a big world, I am the only protagonist, it
belongs to me! At the thought of this, I was so excited that I had a small face.
Take a deep breath, close your eyes, feel the intimate kiss of the snowflake,
and sigh with satisfaction
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Online. Really, I am a child in the eyes of my parents, but I am also a
greedy child. But now, in front of me, I have this piece of snow, and the fence,
the village, the creaking river for thirty years is a long memory, but I can
still clearly remember the snow. In the afternoon, in a snowy village, a little
girl was enchanted by the pure white world. Intoxicated by the fact that a
person has that quiet loneliness. I am different from my precociousness at that
time. Those joys and sorrows that have no reason to come, get lost and lost,
touched and embarrassed, but it is a faint thought of a six- or seven-year-old
girl. How incredible! Yes, I know, I have always been a precocious child. In the
corner that others have neglected, that afternoon, the snow in that village is
so deeply buried, it is the most beautiful snow in my life. In the days that
followed, the farther away from the hometown, the more the unforgettable
township. Maybe it's because I have grown up, and the wonderful outside world
has shifted my attention. In recent years, it has been unintentional to
appreciate snow. People are getting younger and middle-aged, the world is full
of things, and there is a lack of snow-seeking mood, not to mention the fact
that the father has gone. Then, even if I appreciate snow again today, who will
call "Xiaolian" in my ear? I remember that the village snow that year was so
beautiful and so beautiful.
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