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Posted by marlll
on October 14, 2008, 10:10 PM.
Town lived every day to hear all the noise of the crowd, the dead of night, dug out the occasional bottom of the bamboo flute, blowing on a Gufangzishang, General Zhao Buhui also used to the feeling of playing. Mosa Zhao hard times I went with the flute, and those playing on the next day floating on the scene ... my heart ...
Teachers graduated, I was assigned to a "small Calendula End," the village primary school teaching. School is located in the golden light of the River on a gentle slope, surrounded by office of the village store, there are two households, inaccessible by road, no television. Teachers are local people, and I only live at the school principal, after school, on the campus of boiling up all of a sudden loneliness. Principal older, gas was proud of my young, especially long-winded nagging fear, not love, and his contacts. He let me teach first grade math language, class, which would allow the graduating class at the show's grand I am lost. No choice but ah, a big boy and a group of small children to start a new life. Teaching is a fresh, but a rough life is not boring color. 3:30 p.m., students from school to home, I do, in addition to nest in a small low-old classmate dormitory window to write, boredom, loneliness longer hate, a person alone in licking their wounds.
The window sat a day when the setting sun to drag the shadow of the mountains to live in cages schools, the total should be back in the back scared me. Do a little hasty to eat rice, suboccipital out of the bamboo flute, Fankou home, a person .............
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