the warm, sweet taste blows to the overpass with the evening wind. When I pass by every night, I feel satisfied just by smelling it.
it was the last Friday of the year. When I sent the script changed to the fifth edition to Thorn, he replied in a second: "it was a good start. I passed."
the combination of roasted sweet potatoes and winter, like beer and first snow, makes people think about it as soon as they hear it.
after evening self-study, we will trot to the self-study classroom, grab the "old seats" that belong to both of us, and pretend to be deskmates for an hour.
but because of centralized management, I can only smell greediness. So as a day student, he was not only responsible for teaching me to do exercises, but also took care of the work of buying midnight snacks.
don't forget to add: "do you understand those two questions today?" I'm going to check it tomorrow. "
there is some inappropriateness, which can not be seen during the time of the topic.
at that time, when I walked back to the dormitory with warm roasted sweet potatoes, my mind was full of happiness and imagination about the future of two people.
because of him, he can always be easily touched by the third year of high school.
I don't know if this is a spell.
after the second anniversary, my question on the search site changed from "what gift to give for the anniversary" to "what are the signs of a couple breaking up".
because I began to realize that our relationship is slowly no longer like love-
We sleep in two quilts, and we also discuss that we may sleep in separate rooms after we move.
when we chat, after "I tell you", it also changed from "I saw a strange cloud" to "I pulled a lot today"....
although I know that there is a saying that "the best form of love is to inadvertently become affection".
but occasionally two years ago, I secretly took pictures of him holding baked sweet potatoes and waiting for me to get off work.
until there was a big drop in Guangzhou, I was so busy that I forgot to watch the weather forecast and didn't wear a thick coat, so I stamped my feet all day.
but in the corridor after work, I saw him sitting downstairs on a small electric donkey.
my first reaction was to complain about "how could he leave early" and ran downstairs with a straight face to scold him.
when I came to him, he handed me his coat and pulled out a baked sweet potato from his armpit.
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"I remember you said that baked sweet potatoes are the sweetest when they are coldest."
although it's funny why the man put the food in his armpit, he can't help but be moved.
"after eating this roasted sweet potato, you can go home."
at the end of overtime that night, I received my mother's Wechat: "did you talk to that boy today?"
I was about to quit the program when I suddenly received feedback from my boss on the manuscript. He posted a lot, and the last sentence was: "if that's the case, I don't think you're fit to write."
probably on a quiet night, my crying was particularly obvious.
at first I ignored it and even resisted it a little.
seeing that I was a little speechless with tears, he began to comfort me to himself: he was fired by the company not long ago, and at first he was very frustrated, but he also got a sum of compensation and is now ready to start a business.
these seemingly irrelevant things make me stop crying gradually. Then he took out a roasted sweet potato and gave it to me in half. He just bought it. I'm tired of watching me cry for so long. Let's eat it in half.
that piece of sweet potato, mixed with tears, was sent into my mouth, which looked particularly sweet.
he didn't say goodbye, but left me with the following words: "next time you cry, you have to go home and cry, you know?"
when I looked at it again, I found a heart-shaped cloud.
what makes me feel warm is not only the sweetness of the baked sweet potato, but also the stories related to it.