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Rain Road

[Introduction]: it is misty and rainy, just like today. There seems to be a layer of gauze in front of my eyes, which makes everything hazy. It’s useless to rub it hard,. The pavilion is hazy, the tree is hazy, the shore is hazy, and the water is hazy. Pushing the door, the rain brushed the face. There are umbrella flowers drifting. But I don’t, because I like rain, as long as it is thin, no matter which season. The rain fell silently, like a cluster of floral steps on tiptoes, squeezing in the middle of the street. The street is like a long scroll, and the rainy road is just like a shallow ink in the silk. The rain, furry, was placed on the tip of the nose, and immediately turned into a slight cold. But it’s okay, not so cold. In fact, the winter in the South has never been that cold. Ice and snow, or cold wind. Even if there is one, there are very few. You have to look for it in words or at the edge of memory. More often, it is warm sunshine and misty rain. Misty rain, just like today. There seems to be a layer of gauze in front of my eyes, which makes everything hazy. It’s useless to rub it hard,. The pavilion is hazy, the tree is hazy, the shore is hazy, and the water is hazy. Finally, the staggered pace in the rain gradually blurred with hoodies. The Creeper on the battleship has entered the dormant period, while the camphora trees on the street are as lush as yesterday. After the rain, the dust falls, the green one is greener, and the green one is greener. In fact, there is no such bleak winter in the small town. If it weren’t for the withered yellow in the corner of the wall, I would forget that it was in winter. The rain is getting thicker gradually. When the wheel flies, it bursts. The clothes were shiny and fluffy, with a lot of water next to each other, squeezing. A roll of water with your hands. Umbrella flowers, more and more open. Big, small, moving, not moving. Under the big umbrella, there are many wind chimes hanging, Chinese knots and Fu characters. The small umbrellas flowed over one after another, and spread out one after another. A few ponds of water, bright. Ripples, circles, as if a few small mouths are naughty. Oh my God, it’s gray. The light is on. Red, green, yellow, purple. Shook, swinging. Singing, dancing. Mark by Mark, wipe by Wipe. Long Roll, melted.

[Editor in charge: Man Tree]

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