Monday, January 17, 2011

the glossy paper wiped away


When soldering off last piece human-height amplifiers net surface, a "LAN" word is completed. A gust of wind from stone under up spirals, straight at him, flung jump at the face, a cough YiRuShan lock live his throat, let he couldn't breathe, he rise red face desperately cough, those who let his throat choking things finally came and a stream of surges feeling was closely followed by, he a turn, can still haven't had time, a stream of bright red blood splashed in the end or the orchid on the word.

He quickly took a sip of water, calm once, find a piece of cloth to wipe, splashing in the glossy paper wiped away, but there are some miserably into La meal, cannot erase, he hurriedly flush, the side with a brush side to say: "Shirley! I didn't mean it!" He kicked up some soil, buried up beside the mouth spray in stone on the glare of the distinct blood.

A gentle breeze blow over. A fine silky voice from certain he distinguishes not clear direction wafted: "that's okay, just like, I'm ok!" But he was heard, suddenly stopped all the movements, fell in past. On that morning, oneself ride bike to carry the wife Shirley to take a picture of some scenes spewing out, they all boils down into a picture: she from the ground, raise the upper part of the body face white, eyes shining.

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