heart is cold: the mothe

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heart is cold: the mothe

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In the snow dance season, the fine hexagonal elf leaps in the air, beautiful, ice-shaped and soft, like a light reed, like a butterfly array. The joy of the dust in my heart is like a reunion. I gently open the door of the years and relive the warm drunk. There are a lot of thin snow, if the catkins danced in the wind, but the favorite season here, it is difficult to evoke my interest at this moment, only makes me feel cold. I wrapped my clothes, covered my head with my hands, and quickly ran to the school gate. The snow became bigger and bigger, and my heart was as cold as this season. The discomfort of junior high school, the pressure from excellent students, and the eager eyes of my parents and women, have caused my heart to crack Marlboro Cigarettes. In front of the eyes is the cold winter of all things, the heart is also a desolate, as if it is difficult to grow new green. The familiar call of "Kiki" is like a warm wind, passing by. My mother came to pick me up. She was wearing light blue rain boots and hitting the umbrella with some broken edges. I saw me and speeded up my footsteps. Did not take into account the mud point splash, dirty pants corner. "I'm in a hurry!" The mother smiled and leaned over, bent over, his mouth slightly twitching, and used the frozen trembling hands to skillfully help me change shoes. Her slender but not white fingers were on my shoelaces. Shuttle up. Pat the muddy water of her trousers and slowly get up. Suddenly, a car drove past, the dirty water on the road splashed from the ground Newport Cigarettes Coupons, and a weak body held me tight, protecting me from splashing water. "Tick, tick" I looked up and looked at my mother's long hair on the right shoulder. The snow that had been melted was soaked, and I slowly looked up and saw that the umbrella was very inclined to me. Let the snow not fall on me, suddenly my heart is cold: the mother is so caring for me, I love you, mother, you are so good! When I got home Marlboro Gold, my mother used a hair dryer to blow a long hair that she had been protecting me. When I was in time, my eyes were full of grateful tears, but I didn��t let it stay, but let it be my heart. A seed, waiting outside the window, the snow is still swaying, dancing and flying, but the heart is no longer cold. The mother loves the warmth, and if the spring of the scorpion, the chill of the heart is gradually dispersed, and the heart of the heart is moistened, and the amazing flower is opened in the defeat.<br/>Related articles:<br/> NewportCigarettes
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