Children among reeds

I live in a strange city where planes fly by every day. The deafening roar will always ring inadvertently at a certain moment, like a huge thunder coming from the empty horizon, which instantly drowned the noise of the whole city. Living in this city, I am very lonely. I am used to wandering around the street with my backpack on my back after school every day. I walked in a strange crowd, surrounded by strange trees and familiar shops, and kept retreating. I heard my rapid breathing and accelerated heartbeat, which was powerful.

I always walk with my head down, and my lonely eyes are reflected on the stagnant road. At this time, I always see a broken but gorgeous picture about a child and a reed bush.

The vast reeds moaned in the dusk, and the children walked aimlessly barefoot among the reeds. The melancholy in the child's eyes spilled all over the floor and dyed the sunset on the horizon red. The wind messed up his hair, and when he looked up at the sky, the child shed two lines of helpless tears. The sky flew over a group of migratory birds, with the news of seasonal changes, disappearing into the children's vague sight. The child walked aimlessly, and it was getting dark bit by bit. The child is so afraid that the endless night will engulf him.

Pictures of children and reeds have been replayed in front of my eyes, so blurred that I can't tell whether they are reality or dreams. Someone once told me that people who live in dreams will never despair. However, people cannot live in dreams forever. Reality is our only exit. I think so, too. We can't live in dreams forever. No matter how beautiful the dream is, we will wake up. Tired of walking, I stopped to lean against kapok. The drizzle fell on me obliquely through the branches. I looked up and saw the fiery red flower, which was a bit dazzling. I don't want to be bound by the shackles of reality, and I don't want to struggle in the quagmire of depression, so I chose to escape.