Lie in the memory of the corner（躺在角落的记忆）
Late at night, the autumn wind outside the window gradually cool. Cool, full autumn of the excessive in the house tastes.
The autumn tastes gradually thick September, my feeling becomes silent gradually.
Become silent, be like this autumn, have bit of cool night. The corner outside the window, lights already was to wane to the close, night, breathed ground heaves a sigh.
Sit quietly is in this late night, my memory, it lies beyond, that silent corner. Soon, that memory can bestrew the dirt that years remains.
If wind has been blown, my memory, can it still awake? The memory after awaking, still can return the past.
The typhoon should come, a bit fuggy tonight, that is used to the weather station that drinks coffee over, altitude also does not have a wind. Abstruse night sky, yun Piao is being moved, it is star did not have hide or hair only.
Typhonic prelude, quiet, be like this late night. Aloof, faint hear muffled thunder a few times, knocking day wall gently, cooperating, be come then dimly lightning.
Wanted to rain. Typhoon, in that end of channel of city fining jade, began the force that sweeps madly stealthily.
Last year this moment, also be the typhoon is landed. It is ask advice typhoon, if you are childish say. Can imagine your contented laugh, hanging in edge of corners of the mouth.
You are in that rainstorm, hurried walking is far from small town. Await in those days, the month mid-autumn, hide in very deep cloud layer, did not appear from beginning to end.
Began to rain. Right now, before dawn a bit, I hear the drip-drop outside the window knocks the sound that the leaf gives out. The action of coffee, let me listen to rain overnight, till the morning.
Wind, come in rinse house. Cool cool, a bit damp. Noisy thunder, lightning, the doggie of adjacent home keeps crying, this thunder psychs out it.
Remembered last year, friends meet, what sing in KTV is very joyous, wanted to come home, come out to just discover, the world outside is immersing via be in rainwater already. That time, also be harships night, that time, I by wringing, the romance of gentle breeze drizzle, that alls gone momently.
Make much time, play rise, resemble extremely innocent child, those when because mischievous not little the child that get a scolding. Leave childhood obviously already a few years, when thinking oneself still are elementary school however, do morning exercises to stand in last frontier, it is monitor, OK to male fellow student to had been become that girl that berates aloud.
Those memory, sweet, sweet, sad, blue, all is in silently that corner, lay so old.
Your bedside, is there pitter-patter? In your dream, is there rain? When I sit to hammering a written language here, my window door is being opened, pluvial flavour, afflux of a position comes, pitter-patter, gradually shock, that rhythm, faster and faster.
Typhonic rain, not romantic, I am in however pluvial night, let thinking stop, let the heart and harships hop together, wanton together.
Let all unpleasantness, erode in harships, erode neatly, did not stay in my memory.
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