Look for Putuo Mountain, because read Runyan's "Listen to the tide", it will build under the dream of a serpent shadow, despite the tear-open hall knows more realistic but the broken pieces, it still can not help but break the watch distance. At the moment, the ship's side of the bench, surrounded by the same color on a dark, same color of the quiet, faint, and some of the passion and intrigue are freezing up.
Delay in the beginning three hundred nights, troubled Galaxia For Shu days ... ...

When I first catch a glimpse of Napian distant beach, I told myself to find is it. That one, though not such as "a dream look for him hundreds of times when I look back," a stunning and shocking, but that margin is so cohesive suddenly casual and natural. Maybe so, but closer to the imaginary sea: tolerance, easy-going, quiet and peace - a natural grace of magnanimity.
Stroll slowly along the beach, the boat sat too long ago, long ago a sleepy feel, are Kate's long, but also left some memories about the sea, before we know the reason he likes the water because of its broad stretching: undulating ripple is a continuous smooth arc barrier line across the hull of the notch behind the bridge quickly, without leaving any trace, it is a full-bodied feeling ... ...
Inspired by the water where a group of people Huanxiao Zhao capture a wide range of youth. We were touched by two different personality - earnest, or tranquil, and also self-righteous while being moved forward to the sea. I am careful to avoid the feet, a concentric form of prayer, "permanence" in the words seem to "mandarin duck is not only the envy envy immortal" brings the myth of some comfort that the mapping cards, a little continuity.
Sitting on the side of the remote reef, watching the gradual rise of high water, instantaneous, or soaring and some Lingjun stone reefs have been slowly fade out the edges and corners, and now the sea, and accompanied by a low, deep growl, and completely forgetting one, and even some anger the solemn self-wai. Until Hiiro fade, when the last time I will look back, sitting on the left in front of a figure not seen already. Suddenly, some feelings of regret, not for their own spoken words. I want to tell him, see him, somewhat gratuitous jealousy. I told myself love the sea, lovely enough piety, but also not true. Can not belong to the sea, or even, much can not be near me. Perhaps, often in a dream and faced the same color of blue, same color of the distant, that is so - side Ran coagulation sitting, wait senselessly silent. For a time, as if his own warm alone were Kuipo like angry, even though his face, just the sea ... ...
That night, and a stranger appears in front of some salty touch of the question asked, when told he was here and the staff can not help but Yaran.
"You do not need to know where he comes from, I only know that such a person come to Putuo Mountain, to look at the sea, it is enough!"
Thanked him for reminding me just going out when the beach can not help but look back, there is no moonlight, the sea is still crooning, still calm, instantaneous, it seems a little mysterious and strange ... ...

Lying on the bed and saw the ancient walls surrounding approximation into a small space inside, everything seems to have imprinted the wheel over time, bear the scars. Under the dim light, the only way to tell me this is the table of the nineties was a small television set. My subconscious Fuzhu edge of the bed, the wood grain embossing clearly shows that it is from a house, I calmly the ... ...
When I was a waiter from the hotel was beautiful retreat under the cold gaze, finally some regret the impulse to travel. Readily picked out of a backpack would bloom, or even too late to inspect the balance of my wallet, the result is like this strike. Can not remember what had to suffer the lady nearly seventy years old, but also can not remember how I look Tutu touched her, so I was standing in the middle of the courtyard of a small courtyard in the mouth, open the door of the room moments is "prattle -- "On the resonant sound, suddenly pierced the quiet of the ancient house.
I put my thoughts in the house, a few old lady talking out the window of life bit by bit, from time to time there are soon as the melodious to the tank water, as if a sudden contraction after a dozen years of his life, would the warm and moving straight to me back to childhood attic: In the dawn just sensational when the feet of the grandmother is accompanied by a sigh that filled the tank, which is sound, I always wake up from sleep, eyes open one, they can turn around and watch white hair and a smile, gentle love, and quiet happiness ... ...
That night, no sleep.
Author: calladirge