And Test series peer

In a flash, the flowers are gone. Four times in the morning and evening, the busyness and pain in the college entrance examination are still there, but they have to go through the test of fate. On a sunny afternoon, a cup of tea and a pen. I was lying on the table, misty eyes, like writing hard, and like meditation. After all, I didn’t want to abandon my efforts in the four years of college. The tangled hesitation, mixed with restless restlessness, circled in my heart, shouting and fluttering with my thoughts. The tranquil village was filled with the smell of years. This Spring Festival, I went with the editor-in-chief. Thousands of troops rushed to this only wooden bridge. The flying voice wrapped me who was not confident and could not send out a whine. Deep down in my heart, if there was a seemingly absent fear, it would firmly hold my whole heart round and round. I wanted to get rid of it, but I could do nothing. The tea which has already been cool is slightly green, and the tea leaves are either curled up or stretched. There is a world in this teacup. Take a sip, the cold and slightly astringent tea slowly flows to the bottom of my heart along my throat, which is both ice and astringent. Rubbing the already difficult eyes, even if there is me in the world, I have to be satisfied. Unfortunately, I am just a layman who moves in one direction. The rib deep in my heart locked me firmly, so I had to let it go and be manipulated by it. The half artillery battle huddled in the corner of the wall seemed to remain the heat of last night. Yes, the excitement only lasted for midnight. Who could grasp the opportunity, let alone the fate. It is unknown who is the master. Life is originally a one-act play with no ending. Wonderful, isn’t it wonderful? It depends on how you perform. With the unfinished script in my hand, I began to cry my tragedy in pain. Isn’t it a joke all over the world? It seemed that the depression in my heart was somewhat relieved. Looking at the already cool tea on the case, I turned back and entered the room. On the stove in the House, that pot of boiling water had already been spraying hot air, waiting for me still was a cup of tea and a pen. With the tea leaves rotating wildly in the teacup, the curl of hot air and my thoughts gradually, slowly, gradually returned to peace.

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