Leave the city with her and give her a sad journal. 10

Improvisation).

What kind of words should be used to describe the pain of parting?

What kind of way to tell you how hard it is to love.

I'm leaving, it's too easy for me to leave a city, but it's a city with you, and it's a blow to me. I'd love to know what your expression was like when you knew I'd been gone, no, I didn't want to know, couldn't bear to let myself know.

Our memories are contained in this city, you, the two of us, the little box, once full of sweetness, and now it is like a cold diamond, the lights of thousands of homes are so bright, but it is no longer warm, because I am leaving.

What will it be like when I'm gone? There will still be a stream of vehicles coming and going on the road, and the time on the clock tower will still be ticking, what about you? Will it still be as happy as it was?

I want you to be happy, as happy as ever, no, I want you to be lonely because without me. I'm so conflicted, and with complicated feelings, I found the reason, I care about you so much.

Away, I pondered what the word meant to me, and what it meant to you. I'm gone, but my heart is still here, in other streets, in other alleys, thinking of you, you in another city.

yes, gone, I'm gone, and I'm always pictured in my mind the scene where I say "I'm gone" to you.

Smiled, so stupid yourself.

I walked so silently, the pain churning inside me and about to roar.

Without your city, it's a cold diamond.

Every page is filled with your name.

The stories of our past are gradually lost with time

Do you ask someone else to write about your state of mind?

So what is the purpose of this journal?

Selling what you borrowed from others"Deep sadness"?

Dizzy, I want to write a log to express myself, this kind of log has to beg, it's too much

This morning, my uncle called ** and said that the fish pond contracted by my uncle was fishing. So my mother and brother and I braved the cold wind to go to my uncle's house. At my uncle's house, we picked a few live fish and put them in bags.

My uncle asked me if I would be interested in selling fish with him, and I happily agreed.

We braved the biting cold wind to the big market. Even though it was already winter, there were still a lot of people and it was bustling. My uncle and I picked a stall, set things up, and started selling fish.

My uncle and I shouted as hard as we could, hoping that customers would buy our fish. Finally, an old woman came to her prime, and I said happily and nervously: "This fish is home-raised, fresh!"

Auntie, how many will you have? The old grandmother stretched out her hand tremblingly and asked, "How many dollars a pound?"

6 pieces! I blurted out. "Can it be cheaper?

That's the Yuan over there. "6 pieces, just 6 pieces! If you miss 1 point, you won't sell it!

My initial enthusiasm and joy were completely washed away, and I said angrily. The old grandmother had no choice but to leave.

Hui'er, it's not easy for the elderly to make money, and they still have to come to buy vegetables when the cold wind blows, so it can be cheaper. "Uncle patiently coaxed me. At the persuasion of my uncle, I began to shout loudly again:

Sell fish! Sell fish! Fresh and delicious fish!

Gradually, many customers came to our stall. I was elated, and a middle-aged man bought it at once.

Three or four fish!

As the minutes ticked by, the fish in the bucket slowly decreased. When I finally went home, I took the "dividends" given to me by my uncle, and I couldn't help but sigh: It's not easy to make money!