In the rainy days, the old people always lean on the sofa which is slightly worn and covered with grease stains. Listen to the rain, idle the idle time. They close their eyes, and seem to relive the warm memories of the years. Their smile, shallow, face wrinkles, like withered flowers, retain the final gesture東京地產代理.
The women sitting in the room, listening to the drip of the rain, while pulling the sole, while the village in the old mung bean, flip. The life of the past, then settled in tuomohengfei, like those from layers of dust accumulation in the hut horns, a little bit buried by time. In the house, the children can not generally if the weather was fine in the field of play, this time they seem to be bound by a bird, watching the rain eaves, look, let the mind run in the rain, or simply in adults shouted in playing in the yard, let the rain kiss those childish innocence smile Electronic Bidet.
There is rain, the captive chicken in the blues in hiding under the eaves of rain, a pile of here, there is a pile of feathers, occasionally shake off the contaminated rain from time to time, draw a few footprints on the ground with his claws, or cluck bark, as in thought. When the rain can stop serviced apartment?
In the misty rain, the hometown is quiet. Green hills in the distance, quietly looked at, despite the drizzle, the dust in the past bit by bit washed, the mountain more green. Willow by the river, quietly comb the hair down, if a gentle girl, is shy with this misty rain meet. The roadside grass, unknown flowers, with the breeze gently swinging waist, greedily sucking the sweet milk. Rain, is the home of the soul, xixilili under wandering heart.
