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The grocery store

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  • Начата 3 нед. назад ylq
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    ylq
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    The grocery store was gone a few years ago. In fact, I didn't care too much. It was just a few days ago from the lights of the city's sinister rushes, through the lights in the window of the snack shop, I saw that it was nicely wrapped in glass bottles. The transparent candy, the price is too high Marlboro Gold, the bottom of the bottle is Korean, I don't have money, but even with the money I don't have to buy it, but at that moment, the shadow in my memory seems to overlap suddenly. Think of the window-colored candy paper in the home of the home. When there is sunlight, the glass will reflect all kinds of brilliance. Like countless rainbow bridges over the windows, the young leaves of the orange trees outside the door are also dyed with a layer. Glittering frosting. The sugar paper on the window is sticky. It is now untestable. My mother has three sisters. This room is the world when they were young. When I found this window, most of the sugar paper fell off the village. In addition, the grocery store next to the ancient creek, self-notes are there, and I am already six or seven years old, and the sago, jasmine, and walnut cheese that are often mentioned in the mother��s mouth have already been There was no trace, but occasionally on the day when the summer breeze came, there were several cars slowly pushing over when the twilight was not drooping. Even if you encounter the scene of buying shaved ice and bean paste Carton Of Cigarettes, you can encounter it. Without these fun, the non-staple food store has become my spiritual sustenance, and the deepest meaning of the small store is the candy in the plastic cans Marlboro Cigarettes. It is really cheap, one yuan and ten stone sugar, five hairs of a soda soup, a piece of five or three lollipops. Although there is no production date and supplier, it is not a problem for a monkey like me. Always after dinner, the blue-gray smoke appeared on the top of the mountain, and my grandmother glared at me and my sister, and went to the grocery market to buy a snack. It��s winter, it��s dark in the morning, the street lights are lit up like orange hanging oranges. My sister and I wore the same red gloves and scarves, and bought a box of floor-standing cannons from the non-staple food store, burning all the way to a happy beat. As for the leftover sugar paper, the villain who was torn off on the firecrackers will appear on the window on the second day, with a gentle expression and natural color. When the old house was rebuilt, the window was unloaded. At that time, most of the sugar paper on the window was beautiful, and the mistress was old-fashioned. The years of the scorpion unloaded their rouge, and the colored pages of the sugar paper were already Shedding, but fortunately, the window was not broken by the hoe, and it became a piece of silver. Well, it still exists. Later, I don��t know which storage room has one window missing. The window is filled up. My feelings about the flower window are special but I can��t say anything. I don��t think about it all the time, even I never dreamed of it at midnight, but I did occasionally look at my hometown through the colored glass.
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