The father was always silent, standing in the

in F r e i s t i l 28.07.2018 05:38
von ylq • 58 Beiträge

The father was always silent, standing in the window, a pair of thick hands holding cigarette butts, eyes fixed outside the window, how can not guess the expression on his face Newport Cigarettes.of the little and slightly fat, perhaps hiding the vicissitudes of Modo. Suddenly, there was a burst of sourness. The memory is like the old old waterwheel on the river Marlboro Cigarettes Online, and it has returned to the past. The season of rain and heat, the hot air, the damp ground, is boring. In the middle of the test, I want to escape from this period of time. After everything has subsided, I will come back after the sun comes out. My father's face was anxious for me to run around between the schools, desperately trying to get my own quota. The father was kept in his hand and wrapped in several layers in a black plastic bag. Inside was a stack of pink and attractive renminbi that had just been taken from the bank. The sparrows outside the window were extraordinarily noisy, and they seemed to laugh at my weakness and incompetence. They swayed the banner of victory in front of the window. The father held the glare black bag tightly, the other hand held the cigarette butt, then took a deep breath, and the white smoke rushed out of his father's nose, like a long sound. Sigh, heavy and mournful. The father still leaned in front of the window, did not make a sound, silently looked out the window, I clearly saw the crumpled brows, and the few wrinkles that he had quietly on his dark face these nights. The back of the short, slightly fat, in the darkness of the rainy days, a little wolf, helpless. I stood at the door of the room Newport Cigarettes Price, staring at the body of my father's camel, and suddenly burst into tears. The father smoked silently, and sometimes there was a slight sigh. During the night, he was a lot older and suddenly found that the father who had easily lifted me over his head and sat on his spacious shoulders was getting old. . The capable father who I once worshiped is not impossible Parliament Cigarettes. The most he said Marlboro Gold, rest assured, Dad will find a way. There is no such painful scolding as the mother,eavy sense of security, which made me feel that if he was there, I was not afraid of anything. Now, when I go home on the weekend, I will still see a cigarette in my father��s hand, standing in front of the window, taking a deep breath of smoke, and then calling out, his eyes still looking at the distant things, silently, suffering countless Strong and calm. The short, fat, back is still so vicissitudes.

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