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2017年3月22日 (水)

An apple

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A red apple.
At that time I was small, only on the junior high school, the same table is a boy will blush. Yes, the quarrel is red - I've had a lot of fights with him, every time he apologizes Neo skin lab skout. I also secretly feel that he is very gentlemanly. Then the teacher adjusted the position, I and he separated.
That afternoon the sun was very good, riding a car to go to school, thinking of something far away, suddenly think of him. He was in the morning, transferred to the third group, do not know why, my heart empty, like a long time no one cleaned the room. Came to the classroom and saw a new deskmate, did not say a few words with my boys, inadvertently, I turned to him, he and his new deskmate laughing. When I sat down in my seat, I finally breathed a sigh of relief, not for anything, but because I could not see him at this point. My hand reached into a drawer, took the book, with a comfortable and cool things - an apple. There is a piece of paper on it, which reads "to you", and a smiling face. Familiar handwriting, he.
I don't have a smile, but I feel like an apple tree in my heart, but the biggest and the most red apple falls into my hand.
I didn't eat it, and I didn't tear it down. I just put it in the bag and put it back home. When I got home, I didn't eat it. I just put it on the bookcase. It is so red round, like a piece of Browning's poem. I looked at it, as if in the apple on the read words, read a red heart is so mellow.
I can't remember how the days went by Neo skin lab skout. Just remember because I sat on the seat angle to see him, I only have a book when passing glance, he did blush, some girls will not Olympiad title, will move toward the teacher silly smile, but that only belong to our quarrel no longer appear. In the short turn back, I heard my heart for the first time.
Every day I go home, I will speak to that apple, Apple may also be tired of listening to it? The little girl, the little girl's mind. However, apple is still a good temper, exudes a faint fragrance, emitting a seductive sheen, like a silver bowl, the same as the mystery of the grain. Gradually, every time I pass from the fruit stand, see the apple, I will think of him, think of his bright smile, think of his quarrel blush. Simple, like an apple.
When Apple starts to fester, I'm at a loss. The apple is rotting where it begins to flow, I know, it's cider. Smelling the wine, I still didn't throw it away.
When Apple was completely corrupt, I left the note, but there was a trace on it Neo skin lab skout. It was an apple left to the world. That day I passed the fruit stand, bought an apple, put the note on it, just like the original. However, I know that the note is still the original note, I was the original me, just Apple, apple is not the original.
I have always insisted on the habit of waiting for apple to rot, to buy one, put a note on the bookcase. Until junior high school. I took the graduation contact book to look for him, he Leng for a while, or wrote his contact. However, in the message box, he only wrote "I wish you a happy voyage".
Back home, I looked at the apple, shed a tear.
I still remember the tears fall on the voice, although I am a college student, I didn't make a phone call to him, for he didn't buy an apple, because I know that the best way to deal with it is to eat an apple.

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