I remember when I was young, you loved chatting and I loved laughing. Once we were sitting side by side under a peach tree, with the wind blowing in the treetops and birds chirping. I somehow fell asleep. How many flowers had fallen in my dream?
He struggled to swing the swing. The little person was obviously just a child, but he was surprisingly strong. In the hot summer, the sound of cicadas came and went one after another, and the sunlight shone on his face between the dense branches, but his dark face could not hide his bright smile.
He shouted loudly: "Is it high? Is it high?" The swing swayed back and forth, as if it was about to throw her away. She held on to the thick rope tightly and raised her head high as the swing flew up. She saw bunches of light pouring down, charming and golden, dazzling her eyes. Turning his head, he was grinning unscrupulously, with white teeth, revealing the pointed little tiger teeth on both sides, and two deep dimples on his cheeks. There were beads of sweat on his forehead, and his eyes were flowing and shining.
So many years have passed, and the past has been filled with smoke and dust. I thought I had forgotten it, but it turned out that I remembered it so deeply.