After school, I was holding an umbrella, walking lonely in the flow of people, the rain rushed down, chopped on the umbrella like a sharp knife, on the head of a pedestrian Newport 100S, and more in my heart Wholesale Cigarettes. Close your eyes, the teacher's severe scoldings emerged in my mind, the disappointed eyes of the parents and the terrible red cross on the test paper ... Maybe, this learning path is really not suitable for me ... Rain, gradually getting smaller, the flow of people is also in me Instantly disappeared. Walking on the way home, passing the must-go streets, I became familiar with life. A scent of fragrance came, this is the scent of sweet potatoes. I remember this sweet potato stand in the street for some time. I remember that before the exam, my father bought and eaten for me. I was too busy to review, but I swallowed casually. The days after that were hurried, and in a hurry, I never paid attention to the bland stall on the side of the road ... "" Come a baked sweet potato! "I said to the weather-beaten stall owner Cigarettes Online. As the stall owner picked sweet potatoes in the stove, I looked at him. The middle-aged man had thick eyebrows and a beard with chin over his face, leaving vicissitudes of smoke on his face. His clothes were shabby, and although there was a little soot black on the cuffs, the whole had a bleak color that had been washed many times, but it was still clean. He is a man who loves to be neat. He is dressed like this, and the same is true on the roasted sweet potato box. Although it is black, it obviously leaves traces of scrubbing. Sweet potato rolled skillfully in the tongs in his hand, and I suddenly noticed his hand ... The back of the hand was dark, the skin was all wrinkled, and the scars left after being grilled by the fire were a bit ugly. Qingjin exploded on the back of his scarred hand, like a worm ... I was surprised, what made this man willing to bear all this? A sweet potato sells only two and a half pieces. He insists on stopping the rain here for what it is. Not far from his stall, a child is playing with the sand by himself. Men's eyes glanced at it from time
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