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Just as I was about to leave, the door of the ballroom opened. A man rushed out of the ballroom and stood at the door. He looked around anxiously and asked me, "Have you seen a woman in a white dress?"? Just came out of the ballroom? So it's him? Butterfly's handsome partner just now. I hesitated and pointed to the butterfly. "She's right there." The man looks immediately, disdain sneers: "Not, how can be she?"? The woman I speak of is not a cripple. She dances as light and beautiful as a butterfly. I burst out laughing. "What if she's lame?" He was stunned, as if he didn't know how to answer me. After a while, he gave me a white look: "You are sick. How can such a healthy and beautiful girl be a cripple?" I shook my head and sighed. Perhaps he was right. Compared with some people, Butterfly was indeed healthy and beautiful. She was a very rare woman. And he will never know what he is missing. In the dim light of night, the witch walked home alone. The night wind blew her long silk skirt. The road was empty. The witch's mood suddenly got better. She hummed a song and danced with the shadow under the street lamp. One, two, three, one, two, three, spin, spin. The skirt draws a radian to ripple, unscrews, and falls gently and slowly,drum spill containment, like an unknown flower in the night, constantly blooming and withering. Magpie Bridge Fairy Reply [13]: On a rainy night, the witch found a cafe to pass the time. Sitting on a comfortable cloth sofa, a cup of fragrant latte and a laptop computer, the cafe played soft English classic old songs. The witch calmed down and tapped the keyboard to write her memoirs. The specious stories were dug up by the witch from her mind and sent to the website called Lianpeng Ghost Talk. Seeing that no one took my story seriously, the witch was relieved and continued to dig up the old stories of hundreds of years. Someone sat down opposite the witch, and I didn't lift my head,foldable bulk container, but my fingers were still pressing the keyboard flexibly. So she begged me: Give me beauty, and I will pay any price. It was a sure thing for the witch, so I thought for a moment and asked for a good price. The sound of a quarrel between a man and a woman interrupted my train of thought. I frowned slightly and took a sip of coffee from the cup. The coffee was already a little cold. I gently recited an incantation and watched the smoke floating in the cup. I sipped it with satisfaction. Looking up, I saw that the man and the woman were only about twenty years old. Both of them were very young. The voice of their quarrel became louder and louder, which attracted the attention of others. I heard the woman sobbing: "You go, you don't have to come to me." The man was so stubborn that he really left the woman and left by himself. The woman stood in a daze and then rushed into the rain. Through the transparent glass of the cafe, I could see that she was wet and running alone in the night, running away from the man, farther and farther. When I was young, I always thought I was right, but I didn't know what my stubbornness was missing. The man opposite sighed. Only then did the sorceress realize that there was a middle-aged man with a full face of vicissitudes of life sitting opposite her. She was deeply touched for a moment and replied, "That's the way it is. It's a pity that once you miss it, you can't recover it." The middle-aged man looked at the rainy night outside, spill plastic pallet ,plastic pallet supplier, took a long time to withdraw his eyes, took a sip of coffee from his cup, and looked at my notebook: "Are you still working so late?" I looked at the screen full of words and laughed. "No, I'm writing a story." "What story?" He became curious. I hesitated and told him frankly, "a story about a witch." He smiled, too. "That's what you young people like. I'm too old to understand that." I laughed to myself. Is the witch a young man? It's an immortal monster. What about you? Waiting for someone at the cafe so late? He hesitated and nodded. "You're right. I'm waiting for someone. I've been waiting for 15 years, and I'm going to keep waiting." "Who is it?"? Your lover? "If you have time, but I have a story to tell you, if you are interested, you can write it into your story." The witch rolled her eyes and answered, "Well, I need more inspiration.".
” The middle-aged man coughed lightly and began to tell the story slowly: "About 15 years ago, there was a young man named Lin Yiwen. His father died when he was young. Thanks to his mother's hard work, he was brought up. He also worked hard and was admitted to university by work-study program.". After graduating from university, he was assigned to work in an enterprise. Because of his working relationship, he met a girl named Shanshan. Shanshan is a beautiful and proud girl. Her family is rich, her parents are abroad, and there are many suitors at ordinary times. The first time he saw Shanshan in the crowd, he felt that he fell in love with that lively and lovely woman. But he did not dare to dream, and secretly hid his love in his heart, and only associated with her like a common friend. He seemed to be lost in memory, with a gentle look on his face, as if he could see the young and beautiful woman who made him move. I kept quiet and waited for him to tell the story. In fact, compared with the witch's life, his story was not necessarily wonderful, but somehow, the witch could not bear to interrupt a middle-aged man's good memories of the past. Sometimes he would go to drink coffee with Shanshan after talking about work, and every time he saw her more, he would discover more about her beauty. So he would find all kinds of excuses to see Shanshan, but no matter how lame and flawed those excuses were, Shanshan would not expose him and would go to coffee with him with a smile every time. Speaking of this, he could not help laughing softly, as if he remembered the childish and ridiculous youth. I interjected, "That Shanshan must also like Lin Yiwen, otherwise she wouldn't have gone out for coffee with him again and again." You're right, Shanshan and Lin Yiwen love each other, but one feels inferior and the other is too proud to confide their feelings to each other first. When the two sides meet, they always pretend that nothing has happened, but every time they break up and go home, Lin Yiwen hates himself. Why can't he show his heart to Shanshan? There was some regret on his face. Love is not too much scruple, love is love,plastic pallet manufacturer, if too much consideration, it will be subject to secular constraints. When I think of my hopeless love, I feel a little sad. cnplasticpallet.com
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