Year, he hand stroking the top of my hair and said: I'm sorry. Voice was soft.
At that time, content with documented premise ink Chapter Page, the gossip after each met expression, in the other pleasures of his days alone.
At that time, is a book, blot, such as holding Yao, abandoned to make ornament, itself and I had the most word-off glass for their Xiaolian thoughts pop up in between the lines of the pipa only one language.
At that time, he is the book's illustrator, warm micro-smoked at the time, the sun, such as halo, and he is among the pink cherry blossom roll, the body, such as Qiu sticks, laughing if the spring, straight from the memo-side open to the declared end of wanton . When a person, bookmarks for the screen, will my ink with his tepid apart, as I can see where he was, but I still have to often wait. Hot tea on hand that can not be resolved in the book are cool, page is missing between the end of his hand twist of paper marks. That picture, that is, I am sorry he often micro-foolish.
At that time, he is among the book took off. Sometimes, when I did not close the book before, there will be a flower caught in the chapter, the cut a good foliage, thornless stems and rounded, neat and green leaves are advised to spend without the slightest residue was, sweet noodle. From time to time, hold the book together, there are a bunch of forget-me-on the beginning of a book, Zhaqi of crushing blue, but are also hiding the smell of grass. Light humble through, it will half the total whole family in this half-open flowers surprise, the looked him up and shook him with the micro-blush sorry, catching warm.
Dust often angry tone noise throw into confusion, because his feet are wrapped in hard to tell identified complains of unknown sent at, and often blame the dust sound vague, as always difficult to hear that day in the night want to go the full line. So he became my hair day occasionally feel light stroke, hazy night between the cheek next to the touch to the book's stature, with no temperature before the pillow between my case. Although poetry easy to move, and finally only in the volume between the holy life with, traveled between the various Mexican soil, away from incompatible, is the scholarly obsession, and with him, more and more of the text End of the World.
Later, before we know, the name of the book, called a moment.
Seven years, he refused to, as my eyes and said: forgive. Talking about the sound.
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