to time, full of tender smiles. This smile just passed by, but it also made me a little warm and frustrated. When my father bought me sweet potatoes in me, I used to look at me standing next to me with a book, but, just ... I was sad. The man handed me the baked sweet potatoes, and I gave away money as if I had run away. Behind me, the gentle voice of the man came: "Be careful with your son, there is a pond next to me!" I sighed in silence ... Walking, peeling the skin of the sweet potato, the red and yellow flesh was exposed, and the sweet potato's fragrance became more intense. With a bite in my mouth, I suddenly understood: Some events have changed Cheap Cigarettes, and some people's eyes have changed, but sweet potatoes have not changed. It tastes the same as when my father bought it for me last time, but at that time, I slowly walked home without tasting it, and the rain began to puddle, but it was gentler. The corners of my eyes are moist, but I just feel the unchanged taste of this sweet potato in my mouth. I know some things that haven't changed. I still walk on this road silently. Although my father made several requests to pick up and drop off, I was rejected. Only from that day on, when I passed the sweet potato stand in the morning, I began to look for the bright smiles of men and children; when school passed in the evening Online Cigarettes, the stall owner always handed me up with green tendons and handed me a hot, fragrant sweet potato ... Behind him came the voice of a man telling the children to do their homework, just as the time between my father and me was slowly passing by, and suddenly I came to the old street one day without encountering the sweet potato stand. This was true for several days. If I am missing ... The old street seems a little quiet, as if it has lost the smell of fireworks. A few days later I heard the old man on the street say that the stall owner could not continue to set up a stall here because he was driven away by the city management. He had no choice but to make a living. The stall owner is a rural person. In order to let the children go to a good kindergarten and a good elementary school in the city, they gave up the peaceful days in the countryside and came here to set up a stall and live a diligent life. The old man said with emotion: All for children! Poor parents, my eyes can't help getting wet, why are my parents so? My father's white hair and mother's face were wrinkled. Every time I just came home from school, they even spoke quietly, and even stopped breathing ... Wiping my tears and watching the empty old street Carton Of Cigarettes, I If I stand still, I feel lost, but I seem to suddenly understand something. Although I have not eaten sweet potatoes for a few days, the fragrance seems to linger between my lips and teeth. "Junzhi, why do you stand there and go home!" Father didn't know when to ride to my side. I was shocked. I followed my father and walked down the old street. On this road that I have n��t finished yet, I will never finish, and I do n��t want to finish.
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