In my dreams, there are bowls of flowers in the garden, and in your dreams there is the sea. So, every day in the quiet night, the two began to have endless good dreams of good people.
On a rainy day that summer, I became a tourist in the headlines under the name of "Bohai Spring Tide". Upon entering the platform, the first friend I met was a female primary school teacher with a registration number of "Village Child King".
At the time, she was filming a video of her leading a group of children to collect herbs in the mountains. She has a beautiful face that is unique to northeastern girls, with a ponytail, and her body is full of spicy wildness.
But at a glance, it was clear that she really liked children. I know that girls who like children must have love.
I had just returned home to recuperate from altitude sickness, so I tried to ask her if there was a similar reaction in the mountains and if there was any way to alleviate it. She smiled shyly and said, You are really asking the right place, her mother is a very experienced village doctor.
As soon as she came home, she asked her mother, but her mother said perfunctorily that this disease was a stubborn disease, and there was no way to root it, but to stand up. The girl was anxious after hearing this, complaining that her mother had no sympathy. She was again a soft and hard bubble, and only then did she learn from her mother's mouth that the winter grass might be effective.
Since then, they have paid more attention to each other. She left a message saying she was from Mudanjiang and attached a picture of herself by a reservoir. I also left a message saying that I was from Tangshan and that my home was on the Bohai Sea.
Subsequently, I started registering headline numbers. She took the initiative to give her a string of names and satisfactorily chose a "sound of the sea"; I also gave her a poetic new name, called "Hua'er Si language", because her name has a "si" word.
One Sunday, she showed me her vegetable garden via video. In each of her carefully planned places, a variety of vegetables are grown. There are slices of eggplant, tomatoes, beans, and cucumbers. Each interval belt is also planted with moon season, dali and peony. The wrought iron fence walls around the garden are also densely covered with bowl flowers.
Bowl flowers are blooming. The three or four petals of pink were gathered into a small red flower, and then a bunch of them, and the round face inside the wall was pressed hard, like a naughty child, looking hard outside the garden.
Thus, a story of mountains and seas quietly begins from here. In my dreams, I have the bowls of flowers in the garden, and in your dreams there is the sea. Every day in the quiet of the night, the two people have endless good dreams of good people every day.
One day, your colleague and your parents said you were in an online relationship and lost the face of the villagers. You simply have a showdown with your parents and say that you are in love with the sea.
The father was furious and suspected that his daughter had a nervous problem. Holding up a stick, do you believe in that bastard boy who doesn't know that existence or non-existence is more than your parents? The mother, on the other hand, snotty and tearful, asked the same question over and over again.
Later, every time I talked to her, I called myself an asshole boy.
The yearning for bowling flowers is very simple, that is, to be able to tangle with that bastard boy for a lifetime.
Perhaps crying is more therapeutic than sticks, so the distance between the mountain and the sea is always the distance of the love of the bowl flower. Finally, I've been outside the courtyard and never been able to walk half a step into your garden.
I wrote privately that I had another toothache today and wanted to be in a mountain dream. Hit the bowl with a sneeze, and then immediately reply that my dream was already on the other side of the sea.