My Life

In the morning of early summer, the breeze blows on your face, and the cool wind bathes your skin, making you feel refreshed. At dawn, people start to get busy. I sit under the tree and read poetry: The wild flowers are gradually enchanting the eyes, and the shallow grass can only have no horse hooves. My favorite lake is eastward with less than green poplar shades and a white sand embankment. The sun is rising, the sky is blue and the clouds are white. Drink a cup of tea, close your eyes, and be intoxicated by the melody of the music! After breakfast, I went out. There was a lot of traffic, and the hot sun was steaming the water-sprinkled road. I walked on the road with my bag on my back, sweat soaked from my forehead, across my face, and flowed into my mouth. I quietly felt the process and walked forward to the bus stop. After a while, the bus arrived, but I hesitated. I turned around and looked at the wilderness inside the wall next to me. The ruins revealed ravines. Water flowed from unknown sources and wet the station. There were many footprints on the black soil. People came and went to create a path. I followed the dirt road and climbed up the hill. I squatted under a small tree and pondered. My mind was thinking. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.