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Woke up in the morning, the things in my dreams are still fresh in my memory, and the past is still broadcast in the back of my mind. In my dream, my mother and I returned to the cold courtyard of the grandfather��s small courtyard, with dead leaves everywhere. The old house of earthy yellow is inlaid with broken window sills. The water is well-strewn and covered with dust. The shovel that is about to be bald is still standing on the east wall. It is already beyond recognition. All the signs show that no one has been here for a long time. The spring breeze bursts, the jujube tree shakes the hard branches, remembers its fruit ellipse, like a smooth cobblestone, picking one in the mouth, sweet and refreshing Parliament Cigarettes. Many Mid-Autumn Festivals when I was a child said that I went to my grandfather��s family to go relatives. In fact, I was more concerned about the jujube and pomegranate in my grandfather��s yard. My sisters and I often climbed the roof of the grandfather's house, with a blue sky and white clouds on the head, and the jujube tree of the red-leaf red fruit in front of us. We took a few crystal clear red dates and ate it beautifully. Then pick some and take it home. Seeing that we are happy, my grandfather always smiles. Twenty years later, the jujube tree is old. Look at its dark, green trunk. It should still be alive, but it is slower than other plants. The pomegranate tree made a new bud, revealing a monotonous vitality. When our sisters fell from the pomegranate flower to the fruit, they were always looking forward to eating the sweet fruit and the crystal clear grain. Throughout the heart, now that it has grown up, the fruit should be more juicy and sweet. My mother and I stand in the courtyard, recalling the scenes of the grandfather's grandmother's life mokingusacigarettes.com. Years are rolling, life is a dream, many people want to come to the people who are familiar with me. The grandmother is the first to die. In her memory, her feet, her white hair, and her shackles, swayed with simple, rough red-brown sticks. When I first remembered, she was only seventy years old, but she was already the old-fashioned dragon. My grandmother was 73 years old and had a partiality. At that time, I was only six or seven years old. When she was healthy, I only remembered that three or two of them were grandmothers coming to my house Marlboro Lights. They still carried a black and white flower in their hands. The earthen cloth is covered with cloth. In the East Room where we lived, the grandmother lost the walking stick, sat on the bench, and put the bag on her lap. Our sisters eagerly watched her open the bag. There were seven or eight white sugar buns, three tall and beautiful. The angle, white and fat, is very attractive. Sh
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