The best time

Time seems to be flowing, slowly passing through the fingers, never returning, but those past events in the heart are always the best time in my memory.

Early spring of that year

The bright sunshine outside the window shines into the house, warm and weak, sleepy eyes, looking at the reflective target, only to see a dazzling white.

"get up--"

With the reprimand of my grandmother, I was driven out of bed. I had to wear very heavy clothes and walked out of the door slowly. At this time, the big yellow dog at home was waiting for it early, and looked at me with the look of hope at the door. "Go! Go out!" I took it out of the yard and took a frisbee and threw it into the grass. Gently, no matter how far, it can be turned back. I fumbled, taking out a few coins from my pocket, and counting them one by one, just enough to buy a favorite sausage of rhubarb. I walked to the store with a light hand and tried to avoid my grandmother's sight. The rhubarb seemed to understand my mind and quietly followed me. I laughed when I looked at the way it was satisfied when I was eating it. In the early spring of that year, I was five years old and accompanied by pets, it was the best time.

Midsummer that year

The sunset that is about to go down is shining on the earth with the last gaze, and the stuffy people can't breathe.

"Hey grandson, come to eat, eat grandma to tell you stories."

Perhaps under the temptation of the story, I ate more meals than usual, Grandma said to reward me, of course, is to tell a few good stories. Moving out of the old rocking chair, my grandmother sat down, and I sat on my grandmother's knees. "A long time ago, it was such a starry night..." Not only did I follow the plot of the story and looked up at the sky. "The Queen Mother does not let the prostitute go down..." Halfway, Grandma suddenly stopped and walked into the vegetable field. "Come, eat persimmon." Oh, my grandmother really hurts me, secretly giving me a small portion when the dishes are cooked. In the midsummer of that year, I was seven years old and accompanied by my grandmother, it was the best time.

Late autumn of that year

The autumn leaves are falling, some people say that it is a bleak season, and the cold wind is coming, there is a hint of chill. But in the fall, there is another mirror image, which is the autumn harvest.

"Hey--"

Listening to the screams of the villagers, they rang through the entire wheat field, and I joined the "war." In the late autumn of that year, I was nine years old and accompanied by labor. It was the best time.

That winter of the year

The north wind whistling outside, but watching it was chilly.

"Hey, hey..."

It is the voice of my book. I am totally immersed in the beauty of the book. There is no cold outside of the mind. Only the secretary warms my heart. In the deep winter of that year, I was fourteen years old, and accompanied by books is the best time.

Year after year, day after day, time has passed by, but it does not take the best time left in my heart.

Third day: july