Clear Marlboro Red. I like it very much, clean and refreshing. Another year is clear, there are few pedestrians on the street, but the depression cannot be called solemn. Perhaps, what is missing is cloudy, but bright. In the past years, Qingming generally rained a few days ago. Men and women in the street or in white or black, holding a white umbrella in their hands, the umbrella bones are thin and fierce, making it easy to think of the story of the White Snake. The family has never had the habit of clearing the grave, and the solemn atmosphere of the festival is naturally faded, but it is also very boring. All kinds of men and women walked by me, and their feelings were solemn and sad. I could think of their state of mind, but they could not bring in their own emotional and windy shavings. Although it was spring, it was actually the dead leaves of the earth. Sweeping, rubbing against the ground and making a harsh sound. For a time, there were some unusual emotions, like a strange holiday to this strange festival. The wind continues to blow, but the rain does not. Unlike the previous Ching Ming Festival, the rain and the ripples were floating in the air. The charm of the Jiangnan water town was outlined. The wind was somewhat naughty and passed over my fingertips. Cold, I couldn��t help but chill. The heart is still looking forward to the clear rain: the rain in the Ching Ming season is not a drizzle, nor a dump. The rain is not big, but it lasts for a long time Cheap Cigarettes, as if to express respect for the deceased. The whole city was swayed by the misty rain, which is another scene that I am longing for. The rain and the rain made me almost forget that I liked the Qingming rain or its artistic conception. The sky was late, but there was never a drop of rain in the sky. Qingshan is still there, but there are few sunset red in the twilight. The distant scenery does not look like a complete look, only the outline. A few light smokes can be identified on the distant hills. In the meantime, only a few screaming birds are heard, like the condolences of the deceased. The pedestrians who came to the rush, I don��t know who had licked the nose, and the throat violently coughed, it seemed to be sobbing. I stayed in the foot and walked on my own. I walked across the street and turned into a shop. The owner of the store was obviously the one who was next to the clerk. The content is not really good, but it can be known that it is about the Ching Ming Festival, and the tone is a faint sadness. The owner's daughter ran out, the face of five or six years old: "Mom, don't you go to the grave today?" The owner just smiled and caressed her tender face Carton Of Cigarettes. I looked at the mother and smiled lightly and walked out of the store. In the dilapidated small courtyard, only the wisteria was hanging aimlessly, and the moss covered the dilapidated walls. Pebbles and broken glass slag are scattered in the gravel, and a wild cat walks silently on the top of the wall. From time to time, I looked back and looked at me suspiciously. I went home, and I never spilled a drop of rain in the sky.
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