They can't run by themselves, because their legs and feet are too heavy to hold money.
Hope makes him happy, and fear makes him depressed. He wants to sleep, but he can't. His limbs were scattered on some hay. There was no noise, only the stars in the sky accompanied his heartbeat.
It's late at night, fatigue for many days, and fear of running away make him physically and mentally uncomfortable.
The night is still dark, and there is still some wet and cold fog in the air, which makes my heart more desolate.
6. I don't know if I'm moving forward or have stopped. I just feel waves in my heart, like a fluctuating black ocean. Darkness is connected with my heart, everything is dim, everything is ups and downs, and everything is in a trance. Xiangzi seemed to be choked by a gust of wind and swallowed several mouthfuls.
That car is really cute. After driving for half a year, it seems that there are feelings everywhere. As soon as Xiangzi twisted his waist, squatted his leg, or kept his back, he closed it immediately, giving Xiangzi the most satisfactory help. There is nothing awkward between him and it. When he reached a flat place with few people, Xiangzi could hold the handle with one hand, and the slightly loud leather wheel urged him to run like a strong wind, fast and steady. When he arrived, Xiangzi's clothes and trousers were all sweaty, as if they had just been fished out of a basin. He feels tired, but he is happy and proud, a kind of fatigue, like riding a famous horse for dozens of miles.
He has no appearance, what makes him lovely is the spirit on his face. The head is not very big, round eyes, fleshy nose, two short and thick eyebrows, and the head has been shaved. There is no excess meat on the cheeks, but the neck is similar to the head. ) thick; My face is always red.
Gonta was so soft that even the handlebars moved slightly; The trunk is so bright, the cushion is so white and the horn is so loud.
Decent, strong, dreamy, selfish, personal, strong, great, Xiangzi, I don't know how many funerals he sent with others; I don't know when and where he will bury himself, this degenerate, selfish, unfortunate and socially ill child, the last ghost of individualism!
Ok, hee hee, the teacher took us to draw it!