"According to our news reports, the trade winds will arrive in the near future."
There was always such a sound coming from the old radio. Every time I heard it, my grandfather would always bring a sack to the grassy slope of the back mountain.
Grandpa said, "The wind blows people's thoughts and concerns. We carry our hopes and dreams and catch every letter in the wind."
The leaf paper was messy in the wind, the heavy rain blew away the fairy tale, and there... Became a place I call a fairy tale.
Posted on two platforms, it is really the author himself, not a porter. It is easy to save the manuscript here, and the character settings have been slightly changed, which does not affect viewing.
It's being modified, so let's lock it for a while.
Purpose: Philosophical article on healing