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Still in the heat of the

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    September 5, 2019 9:08 AM BST

    Still in the heat of the New Year, I sat in the room and figured out that I had to leave school for a few days. Downstairs is a sudden rush of footsteps. I pushed the door out of the room and ran into the mother. Seeing that she just changed clothes and is wearing shoes. Dressed very formal, unlike the usual pajamas that only wear shackles. I asked, where are you going? She did not look up, concentrated on wearing shoes, after a while, ready to go downstairs, said to me, your aunt's house. I asked again, which aunt? I rarely visit relatives on my father's side. Every time I see them, I am always jealous, don't say a word, have a terrible sense of alienation, and even the only chance to meet the New Year, I am afraid to avoid it. Can push and push. Over time, I can't remember that I still have such relatives. My mother has come to the first floor, as if to tell me, and she is saying to herself, Baishi��s aunt, hey, why did it go in the New Year... Followed by the door and The door frames merged and made a loud noise. Then the world fell into a dead silence. I smelled a little bit of death in the air. Maybe it was my illusion. It was probably more than an hour. My father hurried back, and the night was approaching. He didn't have time to eat, and after throwing a "take care of his younger brother", he got into a small car and went away. The intense white light emitted from the illuminator cuts the darkness and shines in the distance, like a long hole that is cut by the knife. I ran back to the room to take off my coat and wrapped it up as warm as possible with warm duck feathers. The parents did not return overnight, after all, it made me a little scared. For a few days, parents spend most of their time at White Rock. It was not until many days later that the sky was not yet bright Wholesale Cigarettes, and it was awakened by the mother, forced to wear clothes, and drilled into a car with a half-dream and a half-awake attitude, sitting in the car and several adults, and violently discussed in local language. I was awake by the suffocating heating in the car. I couldn't open the window, and the cold wind came in. I subconsciously frowned and wrapped my down jacket. We are going to Baishi now, take a funeral car and stop by the road, the low eaves, looking inside is a black crowd. Maybe I haven't woken up yet, maybe because of fear, I just sneaked in and looked at it. It didn't look really good. The mother took us outside, and the father went to the buns shop to buy two loaves of bread, and the hand that had already lost consciousness was renewed with a touch of warmth. Because it was too cold, my mother called me to sit down in a car. The neighbor was a six- or seven-year-old girl. It was said to be my cousin. But in memory, I have never seen her. It��s boring, I stuffed my earphones into my ears, and the sweet music flowed into my ears, resonating with the eardrum. I looked at the low eaves through the window that was not clean. It was still flowing, but the noisy voice was separated by the window. I couldn't hear anything. But I didn't look away, because at the moment the center of the crowd is lying on my aunt who has never heard of it and who has never met. I don't know how long it has been waiting, the sky has already been bright. The mother sat in and the car slowly moved. In the mirror, a row of cars ran neatly and orderly, and the mirror handle on the left side of the car was tied with white towels. The team drove through a mountain that was not too tall, then drove along the spacious road for a while and bent into the funeral home. It was still early, but the funeral home was already full of people. I put on a white hat and put on white clothes to go in with the crowd. The funeral cars are neatly listed, each with a striking photo on it. The above is a kind-hearted old man, raising his mouth slightly, clearly warm and heart-felt, but people can't help but feel sad. They have also had a flower-like life like me, and finally left a photo with a smile and left forever. I continued to go inside, most of the people stopped at the bridge, gathered together in twos and threes, holding the hot milk tea, and chatted hard. There was a chill in my heart and the mother pulled me into the waiting room mokingusacigarettes.com. The relatives waiting inside were crowded with huge rooms, as if they were going to overflow. There are three doors on the right side, one in the middle is larger, you can see the steps of the layers, and you can't see the end. At the end is a stunned white light that seems to end the ladder. It is said that going up the stairs to the second floor is a place of cremation. There was a TV next to the entrance door. Some people said that it was on the second floor, so that my eyes didn't dare to stay, but I finally saw it. Against the light, the picture became dim. I seem to have lost all the trachea in a flash Carton Of Cigarettes, lost the ability to breathe, forced to calmly break the mother's hand, squeezed through the crowd
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