Migrating swans hovered overhead, and patches of white snow blocked the sun. The holly in the hanging basket exuded a faint fragrance, and some dark red spherical berries dotted the window frames. An old man with a wrinkled face sat on the bed, not far away.
Children are chewing aniseed candies, the serval cat's tail is wagging, and an old portrait hangs next to the fireplace.
The old man who didn't know when he got up was looking carefully. His slightly cloudy one eye was covered with a touch of sadness. The past was surging in his heart like ocean waves, but as he gradually fell into deep thought, he was struck by the child's tender voice.
Suddenly woke up.
The simple yet thoughtful lace cabins are scattered in an orderly manner, with bright yellow walls and reddish-brown roofs. The aroma of barbecue spreads on the street, the leaves of the beech trees are blown red by the autumn wind, and the crisp sound of skylarks shuttles through the streets.
In the alley, children running wantonly smile especially heartily.
There are numerous shops in the central area of Qunzhai, with foreign businessmen pointing and recording their different journeys. The horns of plateau antelopes are nailed to the wall, benches full of traces of time are close to the display windows, and rusty shop signs are everywhere.
The wind swayed gently, and the colorful ceramic products glowed with fluorescence.
The old man took the child and walked into a certain restaurant. When the boss saw the visitor, he put down his ale glass and stood up to greet him. The day's newspaper was placed in a familiar place, and the eternal shortbread was filled with jam. The cold jelly
The wine is crystal clear, and the taste of the salted herring is still crispy and fragrant.
Dusty red wine bottles are stacked in the corner, residual warmth remains in candlesticks with thick wax stains, copper lamps with mottled patina are dancing dimly, and some bubbles are squeezed out of the chickpeas in the glass bottles. The cozy and quiet town is like a sleepy town.
A lazy lady, and everyone living inside is like the threads on the folding fan, connected to each other but completely unrelated.
The Devil's Sun was brought to the table. The old man dug out a shallow pit from the raw beef puree with a steel spoon, and then stirred it with the raw egg yolk. The light pink blood became the most delicious condiment, and the fresh meat stimulated the mouth.
, the old man at the next table praised his expertise, but the child across from him closed his eyes tightly.
After lunch, the grandfather and grandson walked to the Shigen watch store. The gnome pocket watch that had been with them for most of their lives had been always coming and going recently. The door was still crowded with people. The works of the Enke couple and Croyt had long been
His net worth is rising. The art derived from life is approachable, and the brushstrokes depicting fishermen are gentle and smart. However, people seem to prefer the food stalls at the door. It seems that the bursts of fragrance are far more practical than self-feeling.
The popsicles in the children's hands are mellow and sweet, the old wooden windmill is turning gurglingly, the snow waves migrating with the wind are slow but firm, and some tumbleweeds are running arrogantly into the distance. The evening in the style of watercolor painting is coming quietly, and the sky is rising from the bottom.
At the top, it transitions from lavender to orange.
The world seems to be in the glazed fantasy described by the bard. The exquisite low houses are Thumbelina, the happy smiling faces are Princess Pea, the returning fishing boats are like the determined tin soldiers, and the intrigues are
The hawkers and businessmen seemed to be transformed into Ruodi and the Ice Girl.
The Shimmer Hotel next to the Sunset Plaza was overcrowded, and the figure of the fat boss was among them. Groups of travelers who were about to leave wished each other safe, and waves of men and women planning to stay were looking for the best place to stay. The sunset was like
Half of the sky was as red as blood. The old man led the children through the crowd. The market area full of wooden boxes was bustling with people. A large number of Vikings gathered at the foot of the bronze statue that had stood here for thousands of years.<
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Cedar saplings half as tall as a man swayed gently in the wind, Skagen Lighthouse lit up the ice field, and the wind and snow that stretched for several kilometers gave a glimpse of nature.
Not long after, the setting sun slowly fell into the horizon, and several mercenary regiments melted into the night. The slightly tired children huddled into their windbreakers, and the pipe in the old man's mouth flickered. The portrait hanging by the fireplace fell on the
Land, all the past events come to mind again.
More than thirty years ago, he and his best brother boarded a fishing boat, and the life of living across from each other was so novel at first. On every starry night, he liked to look at the lights of the Forgotten Strait, while his friend
I was always calculating the commission after my return. At that time, the two of them were like brothers, the moonlight was cold and stunning, the first mate had a fierce face, and the fishing net was filled with youth.
Days passed like this, and he got his own bride, and his best friend also had two children. Under the pressure of life, the brothers frequently traveled back and forth between the land and the ice sea, but the fish stocks dropped sharply year after year due to environmental pollution.
The old captain who had worked with him for many years sold his old boat and built a larger and wider fishing vessel to sail to the far end of the ice sea.
On a stormy night, the captain's beloved cigar was soaked with moisture, the roar was torn and entangled with the thunderstorm, plumes of smoke came out of the straight-arm sling, the hook pierced his calf, and his friends were accidentally injured.
Flying. The cold sea water was scorching and frightening. My unconscious friend was vomiting blood. The ship's doctor was hurriedly shouting at everyone. The joy of the harvest was diluted by blood.
The fully loaded fishing boat was sailing on the sea. Although his external injuries were serious, they were not serious. In contrast, his friend's internal injuries were more worrying. The brothers were lying in their respective rooms, with the open hatch
They became a bond of chatting with each other. He said that after returning this time, he and his wife would travel around the entire Austrian continent. His friend listened quietly, but his hands, which were clenching the quilt, were full of sweat.
The humid environment made the injury worse, the anti-inflammatory medicine seemed to have lost its effectiveness, and the white four-leaf clover of Baishu Bailing also seemed to be pure water.
With a high fever, he was leaning on the iron bed. In his left eye was the miserable state of his friend, and in his right eye was the boundless ocean. Dejected, he began to lament the good times in the past, from the time when the two first met when they were young, to now, both of them could not afford to be injured.
.
The friend across the door smiled and said that he could see the lighthouse in the distance from the window of the room, and even vague figures. The friend kept painting pictures of the world. He didn't know what he meant, but he just felt that the other person was.
Showing off those things that are within reach. But looking outside the window around me, there is nothing but endless sea water, and not even a robber bird can be seen.
That night, the fishing boat once again withstood the baptism of heavy rain. Everyone was performing their duties, except for the two brothers. The friend seemed to have fallen asleep long ago, but he kept staring, thinking "Why can only friends do this?"
Seeing everything outside the window? Why don’t I get such treatment?" This thought kept lingering in his mind, making it difficult for him to think about it all night long, and even his injured leg began to rot and fester.
The heavy rain never stopped, and a bit of chill filled the cabin at some point. The violent shaking made him miserable, and his friend across the door fell to the ground. But he was still thinking about why the window in his room was like this
Unbearable. My friend's mouth and nose were gradually invaded by sea water. He was unconscious and kicking the cabin door unconsciously, but he turned a deaf ear to it.
A few days later, the fishing boat returned to the Forgotten Strait, and he walked out of the hatch with the support of his companions, while his friend's widow was mourning the cold body.
Standing blankly by the other party's window, those so-called lighthouses are just shabby pictures, and the buried church is just a plot in a novel. And that novel was a wedding gift that I gave to my friend many years ago.
Gift.
The story came to an abrupt end, and everyone in the bar fell silent. Rikka also dropped a few silver coins and left quietly. A few more lines appeared on the notepad, and the snow bear skin robe was slowly swallowed up by the wind and snow.<