Reports » I can't forget the figure

I can't forget the figure of the black cricket at the water's edge. Whenever I think of it, there is always a bit of worry. It was a smoky water, splashed with ink, and misty in the sky. I walked by the water mokingusacigarettes.com, looking at the dry grass on the hill, and looking up, I saw only a few people sitting fishing by the vast water, but in front of the huge sky, it looked like a group of ants. Many people had half a barrel of fish in their barrels, fresh, but one was empty. It was an old man in black with wrinkles on his face, and a pair of worn leather shoes covered with river mud. It was dusk, and the young men scrambled up their buckets and left. When they passed by the old people Cigarettes For Sale, they were in a hurry. "You save the old province, the meat on the fishhook has been carried away by Lohan dog (small fish)!" A young man threw the fishing rod behind him and patted him on the shoulder of the old man a few times. "Hee, it's good to be able to catch small fish." Another person raised the bucket and shook the old man in front of him Marlboro Red. A little curious, I asked, "Is there really a big fish in this lake? The old man laughed, wrinkles clustered together:" Of course. This reservoir was very deep when it was dug back ... I have a brother who fished such a big fish, so big! "He gestured openly with me, his face full of pride." I think there must be a lot of fish in this lake, and I can catch it, I must be silent. I actually saw a fisherman laying a huge net on the lake, piece by piece, like a broken square mirror surface, occupying the lake surface, but the old man stubbornly waited for his fish. For a while, I asked, "Aren't you going back for dinner?" He nodded: "There is no one at home, and I will not eat myself." There was a naughty boy next to the embankment, watching him shouting, "Strange old man!" Run away, roar and laugh. The old man threw the fishing line ashore. I saw that the bait was eaten by the little fish, as the young man said. The old man sighed, took out a piece of bait, hung it on, and threw it down. I saw his hands covered with scars. It was almost dusk, and I said goodbye, and fled home. The old man is waiting for his big fish. What am I waiting for? Suddenly, I raised my eyes and looked into the unknown distance, a little bit more worried in my heart. Did he catch a fish today? And me?
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