Blossom, eternal

The flowers bloom, the eternal season, the flowers bloom, and the hourglass of time is once again turned back. The memories are confused, melted, and will also emerge in an instant. ————The inscription has been remembered, the flower of friendship in that season will never fall. In the thick shade of the trees, our laughter was sprinkled. I took a beautiful moment of chasing each other. When I remembered geometry, you asked me with concern: "Do you still have a pain in your knee?" "No pain, no pain when you are there." I endured the pain of the wound and smiled with a smile. "Oh, who knows if this good friend will not hurt you in your heart!" She said with a smile. "Really, it hurts a bit. You won't mind helping me go home!" "Of course - no, let's go!" "Well!" So the setting sun sprinkled its afterglow on me. With her body, it is only to make this photo of the fragrance of the flower of friendship more beautiful. The sunset is so good, friendship is so good, the flower of friendship is so beautiful! Vaguely remember that the flowers of teachers and students are open. People are still the original people, the classroom is still the original classroom, but the sky is not the original sky. I saw that my classmates were picked up by the parents one by one, and no one noticed me alone. I want to cry, but I can't cry, I can't tell the sadness in my heart. At this time, the teacher came over and saw me staring at the rain alone, and said, "Why haven't you been home yet? The parents haven't picked it up yet, I will send you back." I hurriedly said: "No, teacher. My mom will come soon." Although I said this in my mouth, I really want the teacher to send me back. After all, the taste of being alone is not good. I don't know if the teacher understood my heart and pulled me over and said, "Let's go, anyway." "Well!" I am happy to answer, the opening of a flower called "Sudden" in the heart of the teacher. It is filled with fragrance. Flowers are not thankful, those with smiles, teardrops, bit by bit, in the memory of the quiet flower buds, a little bit of light, the fragrance is still so familiar.

First day: 虞璐璐