Between black and white

Between black and white, a colorful picture pops up, which is the most beautiful moment.

--Inscription

The wind swelled slightly, wrinkled the skirt and had memories. Turning the page diary, here folded one by one yesterday, if the battle is bitter, the bright and clear, the most stupid and the most innocent happy... between the black and white papers, filled with the first year of the year. The dyed fingers burned down a period of time. The first day of life seems to be a dream. I fell asleep in the toss and turned, and I was intoxicated when I fell asleep. In the end, I was smashed by the alarm clock, and I was sobered by the world. Today, it has been pushed to the second day.

Walking together during the day and night

Thanks to the teacher's care, from the first day to today, there is still a long future and the future. So diluting a thing is a feeling of human. I think that you stand at the podium early in the morning and lead us to read it early. Our mouth can't be upturned. When we sneak out of the door and observe our every move, we don't feel uncomfortable. But now think about it, it is this black and white between your black eyes that urge us, spur us and remind us. We will not be blunt, we will know how to go forward! You are like a small sun shining on every day of our study.

White pen blackboard writing the future

Most of the teachers in the second day like to write a blackboard, and the white chalk brush is dancing on a silent blackboard. This is especially true for me. I like the feeling of absorbing knowledge when I look up. I like the teachers to write the thinking process one by one on the blackboard, and then let us surf through the blackboard in the unexplored waters. Even if there are reefs, even if there is a tsunami, or a hidden whirlpool, we can still watch the blackboard blossoming brightly, because from here we can see the faint light rising between the black and white, this is not What are we doing?

Walking in black and white

The three-year-old acquaintance, the ten years passed together, the teacher in memory is like a pearl chain that is worn, and the tunnel in time flashes. Those little bits and pieces in my heart are mottled in the corridors of youth. The most impressive impressions are the deep backs and the lines drawn on the pages of the book. I like to write a teacher. When I first wrote the text, I wrote the teacher, the teacher who taught us to write the text. Now when I am at leisure, I turn over a page, and the bursts of emotion will be unrestrained.

I will learn from the teacher in my life, and I will use the teacher as the book. The flower provoked the hustle and bustle of this season, and the leaves made a troublesome night chapter, but the teacher smeared our swaying smile.

Second day: mia527