At that moment when the wind blows, it is the golden mignonette petals, together with the little girl’s messy long blonde hair, swirling away. Then staring at each other with round eyes, one is a bit ferocious uncle, a sudden appearance like the elves, toot a small mouth, baffling and strange. Think of that a gust of wind, maybe it is the soul of my grandfather who died not very assured, in a long time ago, planted the birth tree, will have been guarding, until I see the day who will snuggle in the arms of who, listen to him tell a nice fairy tale book.
I do not know why I always feel that the name of “White Rabbit sugar” is very loopy, but I prefer to arbitrarily call it “white sugar rabbit”, like a small rabbit as soft and clever, and send out a hint of sweet taste. Fine fluff in the sun slightly in fine, warm and clean, Yes, just like the story “White Rabbit Candy” tells you, with the faint traces of watercolor painting, gently dizzy the whole world. One or two simple words of dialogue, a shallow smiling face, a child running, a drop of sliding tears, a pair of big hands holding hands, some crafty do not know when to fall in the bottom of my heart, like a soft marshmallow melt, and like every day every day slowly climb the face of the moon in the night sky. Half a month, the little girl will be a little sad to say, “Sister Moon has no spirit today”, and then lay on the broad and warm back, heavy sleep.
A 30-year-old single man adopted a six-year-old girl, they play the tender card of healing, in fact, and real life can never be as warm and romantic as the cartoon cannot care about daily necessities. But so what, sometimes we do need something pure to brighten our lost innocence. When I wake up in the morning, my quilt will be soft, hot and sometimes wet. There was the smell of a man’s breath in the air, a gentle light shining through the latticed Windows, and the occasional unknown song singing with the clouds. How many small things in our memory have never been deep, when it changes into light and shadow to know, those unutterable “thank you for bringing up” words how important.
And by the time we understand it, we may already be a person who needs to be thanked. I wish I had been a girl forever and never grown up, she said with a smile while shedding tears like Chonju s mother. But we are still a bunch of trees and grow together, and then in the next for who planted the birth tree, watching them do the same as we used to do, on tiptoe than the height of worry to grow up.
Grandpa’s home hung an old clock, when it no longer tick sway, she stood below how cannot reach, there is such a big so big figure seemed to block the sun, across her body rotating clockwork issued a pleasant sound, time began to move again. That day she remembered that she slept on her grandfather’s stomach, the sun had smoothed the wrinkles on her face, and she had the same face as that man. They were all like very tall trees, their branches stretched out around her world, their green leaves broad and soft. So they laughed and danced with her, carrying the new branches and the fruits that would surely eat well in the future.
