当我们都忙着自己的事情，拍照 ，高考，搬家，回家……不知道他们是在校园里哪一个小路分开牵紧的手 ，或许，他们没有说出分手这两个字 。一个将要走到一本的某个校园里，却不肯做一个老马 ，一个，乘着北上的火车，看那一片海，我们眼里 ，一个很美的海滩。
我在想着，他会不会在仍是堆满书的角落里，看着已经成为过去的照片 ，她的可爱的样子，在这辆列车上，看遍了阳光明月 ，淋过了雨中漫步，手中是否还有那时残留的余温，照片里 ，是她喜欢的外套。她是不是还穿着 。
或许，我们都错了，他们还爱着 ，还在一起……我多想这样的结局才是事实，她的他，只是她的窗前的过影。此时的感觉，就像从石家庄坐着长途车 ，窗外从河变成山，劳作的人变成插着花圈的小山头，再变成荒郊野地 ，到了昏昏沉沉的邢台。
我看过了，就像一片划过的叶子，轻轻地 ，没人在乎的经过，我说了，幸福哦！她回了 ，谢谢啊！还有人看了，没有说，还有人说了 ，每天 。心情流浪的时候，没有终点，总会在第二天的闹钟醒来。
我的灵魂没有错，虽然它不该想到那一个帅气的动作。虽然我不想提她 ，王 。他从王的办公室出来，就神气了许多，开门虽然没有惊到谁 ，我还是看到他轻松的神情，我又只能暗暗为王惋惜，她又做了一件损人不利己的事 ，我为她的灵魂而慨叹。从那时起，我们见到的已不是那样的情形。没有人说王，懒得说了 。
在那片下面，他来过的痕迹并没有让他擦去 ，他没有说话，我想，他想，说不说已经无所谓了 ，我想。
写者无意 ，望听者无意，看着回家的车票，怅然若失 ，权当释怀吧，记之……
我 ，一个孤孤单单的我 。。。 。。。
This is a small small and small small small novel, meaningless, at least I think ...
That year, they broke up. When we didn't care, maybe eat together from the last time, maybe see the last eye of the other party, maybe we all know a score from that year.
When we are busy with your own things, take pictures, college entrance examination, moving, go home ... I don't know where they are separated in the campus. Perhaps they don't say two words. One will go to a campus, but refuse to be an old horse, one, take the train on the north, look at the sea, our eyes, a beautiful beach.
I am thinking, he will not be in the corner of the book, watching the photos that have become a past, her lovely look, on this train, watching the sun and the sun, Walking in the rain, is there still a wait in the hands, in the photo, is her favorite jacket. She is still still wearing.
Perhaps, we are all wrong, they still love, still together ... I want to have a fact that this is the fact, her, just her window. At this time, it is like sitting on the long-distance bus from Shijiazhuang. From the river into the mountain, the people who work will become a small hill inserted with a wreath, and become a wilderness, and they have been groggy Xingtai.
I have seen it, just like a scribble leaf, gently, no one cares, I said, happiness! She is back, thank you! Some people have seen, did not say, some people say, every day. When the mood is walked, there is no end, and will always wake up on the alarm clock on the next day.
My soul is not wrong, although it shouldn't think of the handsome action. Although I don't want to mention her, Wang. He came out from the king, and he made a lot. Although he didn't surprise, I still saw his relaxed look, I could only secretly sorry, she did a loss of people, I didn't have any things, I Sighted for her soul. Since then, we have seen the situation. No one said the king, it's too lazy to say.
After the future, whoever became a cross-shadow, who left a green leaf or red leaves.
In that, the traces he had come did not let him wipe it. He didn't talk, I thought, he thought, he didn't matter, I thought.
Perhaps, in the sea, there isA newly generated pearl.
The writer is unintentional, looking at the listener unintentionally, looking at the ticket of going home, if it is lost, the right to let go, remember ...
We first separated for so long, waving from the front of the station.
Your back disappears in the vast sea, I am on the way home, a dragon fruit.
The hustle and bustle of the city disappears in the last intersection of the grass beach, towards the night, deviating from your direction.
Bumpy car, bumpy, my life, forty days, how to go back?
I, one alone. . . . . .
Copyright jmser.net 鸡毛书 Rights Reserved.