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The long and narrow ancient alley leads to the blind spot of blindness, standing on the alley, and the roadway is like a three-dimensional painting in art painting. It is a big and small gradient, and then it becomes a point disappearing, but it can It is clear that it is not the end of the road. There are old bricks and tiles on both sides. After being baptized by the years, the blacks are dilapidated and the cracks are uneven, but they reveal an unadorned and gentle atmosphere. The stone pillars are somewhat damaged, covered with deep or shallow pits, but they still stand up. The concrete floor, with hundreds of years of pedestrians' varying depths, undulating and undulating, in the disorderly memory, I grew up in the small corner of the street. I spent the childhood of wearing open trousers here, and walked through the time of reading and going to school, no worries. I am very familiar with the other children in the alley Marlboro Cigarettes, and I am always in groups to play together. We will find a hidden corner and form a small circle. I will groping my little hand in the pocket on the side of the garment for a long time. I will take out a small piece of leather candy and divide it into several flaps. I will carefully share it with my friends. . We licked our mouths, licked our fingers, smiled at each other, and then everyone was happy for a long time. In the New Year, the first thing that set off a festive atmosphere was our little hair. We gathered in groups in the open space of the alley to set off firecrackers. The mixed firecrackers are ignited, emitting a colorful flame, and the night sky is lit up in the evening, and the fire is shining on everyone's face. We bloom like a fireworks with a naive smile, and fun can't be said. Some boys didn't pay attention, they branded a small hole in the new clothes, and they had to smash a slap in the back Marlboro Gold, but they still smiled silly. It was the most innocent and free time of our lives, and the games in the windy lanes were peekaboo. Although the lanes are narrow, but the lanes are connected to the tails of the lanes, the lanes lead to the new lanes, which repeatedly interweaves a complicated network. The rain-proof wall at the corner is often the best hiding place for cover and easy escape. With one order, the crowds scattered and we each hid. With the heartbeat of "����", we are alert to every footstep and are ready to remove the base. We are integrated into the alley in countless pockets. Childhood seems to be fermented into a piece of honey, repeatedly infiltrating into the heart, exuding the sweet smell of fragrance, fascinating and reminiscent of one of the alleys of the year. stray cat. When I first saw it, it shrank in the corner of Fifth Street, and it was covered in mud, and the hair on it was glued together. Its head was pulled, and it looked around with a dull gaze, and it seemed to be a stray cat that lost its destination. Then I often found it in the corner of the end of the lane, a broken bamboo pole, a wall hole, is where it is. My friends and I were curious and slowly approaching. It showed panic, but it did not escape. Once again, when we saw us, we were not afraid. We moved to the corner lazily, and we were cold and indifferent Cigarettes Online. We were completely unaware of our existence. After a leisurely look, I remembered these things many years later. It is unfortunate to find cats in the alley. It has no home, lost the shelter of life on the wandering path, just like countless wanderers. The cold wind blew it, the cold rain drenched it, it was numb like a human, and it lost consciousness. Every night with the dark night, the feeling of homelessness comes to mind, and it is thrown into the bitter dream to struggle. Gradually, the stray cat became cold towards the stranger. When he found a corner, he went down to sleep. Even if he lost himself the next day, it is a pity: there is nothing to lose, only if there is nothing left. . It doesn't matter if you lose your land, no matter where you walk, because there is no place for this heart to convert. It does not belong to the alley, but it lingers in the alley time, the white horses are over the gap, and the children are heading in different directions. Many people went out of the alley and followed their parents into the city, becoming a kitten in the city. Those beautiful memories of childishness were sealed up by them, buried in the heart, and tried to warm it with body temperature, and it was slower. Life in the city is busy, they don��t live as innocently as they used to, and the more they grow up, the more they rush, and then they gradually carry the burden of life. The heavy burden is so hard that they can��t breathe the city��s roads, and there��s no mottled. Bluestone, there are no walls with moss marks, and there are nowhere to find places where you have played hide-and-seek and used fireworks. The air there is dry and heavy, the turbidity is almost suffocating, and the fresh and beautiful aroma of the gardenia in the alley is no longer smelling. When they look at the rushing traffic, like the sea of ??fire, standing on the flyover and looking at the high-rise buildings, perhaps the memories of childhood will slowly rise to the heart. When I was a child, the faint fireworks on the open space, the little piece of leather candy in my pocket, the warmth of the deep heart of the heart, was enough to make them not lost in the bustling city, but one brick, one tile, one grass The wood has not disappeared yet. The paths, the houses, and the corners of the room are all ambiguously integrated with the memory, pure as the original. Only when standing on this land can I feel the feeling of a strong home, feel the heavy burden, freely breathe and practise, I think, I love this slow-paced life. Looking back, the cat in the alley has disappeared, and the corner with the highest frequency does not have it. Perhaps it has escaped from its cage, no longer need to sigh for the glory of life, no need to nest around the knees to seek the ethereal security. Maybe it finally returned to his home and took a bicycle back. The sky was dark. The only thing that was lit in the middle of the street was the old lamppost in the street, the slight warmth of the smoked people, and the shadow of the building on the ground. , gently dragging. The breeze is wrapped in light fragrance, wandering in the night. The stone pillars and the tiled houses are looming, and the halo silhouette is smeared into the gray night. When I stepped off the pedal and left the alley, the outline of the ancient alley was getting farther and farther, but my heart was only getting closer and closer to the cat. It returned to its original place and was the place where it was finally dead. I think one day I will be able to pick up everything and return to the alley, replacing the seats left by the stray cats in the alley, ending the wandering and finding conversion.
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