Ask for two short articles, one topic is: a winter night, the other topic, self-made words need not be too much or too little, thank you.

Grandpa Dong came to our side in a hurry with Mr. Qiu's class. It brings the biting wind and the scene of dead branches freezing, which makes us feel that winter is coming!

It's foggy in the morning. The milky fog hangs over the earth, and there is white everywhere. Walking on the road, you can't see the figure clearly dozens of steps away; From the dense fog, you can only vaguely see the buildings and trees in front. In the fog, I heard the car, but I couldn't see the figure. Only the headlights are blinking like eyes.

The cold brought by winter is everywhere, even when there is no wind on a sunny day, it is dry and cold. Bare trees stood piteously on both sides of Jiang Bin Road, and the once vibrant grass finally failed to support and withered. The little flowers on the grass also fell asleep. The north wind is blowing, and young trees are struggling in the cold wind; The grass crawled on the ground as if afraid of the sudden cold wind.

In such cold weather, you can also see some strong people who are not afraid of the cold wind. In front of the national flag station on campus, the green figure is flashing. Those are rows of slender cypress trees. In the cold winter, they are so rich and green and full of vitality. On the road by the river, many cycads are planted. Its long and narrow leaves shine green in severe winter, adding greenery to white winter and embellishing the cold winter.

The early morning in winter is very lively. In Jiang Bin Park, people who exercise can be seen everywhere. In the vast fog, the figure kept shaking. Young people dress like athletes and are full of energy. They are running and jumping, full of energy and blood. The old people also went out of the house, reaching out on the grass, kicking and jumping, radiant. Although they are old people, they exercise like young people, and they fight the biting cold tenaciously. Look over there, even seven or eight-year-old children are exercising decently with adults. They were panting and their heads were steaming. Look, what a vibrant winter!

I like winter because it can temper people's will and make them stronger. You finally came in winter!

One winter night.

A winter night, lonely, cold, no one. Occasionally, a figure walks along the dark corridor and looks like a ghost. The noise and excitement seen in summer are gone at this time. There was darkness, no lights, only a glimmer of light reflected from the street opposite. There is also white light with snow on the grass. Broken dead leaves were scattered on it. The white in the dark vaguely makes me feel the smell of plant corruption and death.

I went into the park looking for something. Suddenly thought of the topic of time path in Loneliness. Cross paths in the park stretch in the dark. I walked along the prescribed path, and the more I walked, the more I felt it was dark around me. Because I am alone at the moment. In the depths of the park, it seems that a pair of dark and deep eyes are exploring me, expressing something, but full of doubts, which makes my heart panic. If it asks me at this moment, "Why did you come on such a cold winter night?" What should I say? In fact, I seldom go to the park. I have never been interested in crowded, noisy and exciting places. I feel that I am a lonely and used person. Perhaps there is a natural need for desolation and loneliness. I am not sad at this moment. I don't have no need, I just pass by occasionally. Just like us in time, we will decide a trend by accident, and that trend is called inevitability, so it is inevitable that I will walk into this park this winter night.

The surrounding trees are bare and silent, with thick shadows and heavy looks, as if you can't cross them. I looked up at the sparse treetops. No leaves, empty branches, no language, a cold look. Looking at that branch for a long time, I couldn't help feeling lonely, as if I had stood silently for a long time. I don't want anything, I don't expect anything.

I want to sit down and have a good memory, but the cooling here is pushing me away and letting me leave step by step. At the same time, the memory itself tells me that all memories are a farewell, but in fact, those who say goodbye will never come back. I didn't sit down at last, but stood in the pavilion, looked up at the sky and left. The park is cold on this night, and it refuses people to come. On such a winter night, it is really not gentle. There are no dreams here either. I remember all my dreams. They all come from the depression and loss in my life without exception, but they can't make up for me. They can only make me feel sad in depression. The park is sad and indifferent at this time, only the cold air attacks people, only the little snowflakes left in the darkness flash.

After we have gone through the prosperity and excitement of life, we will see the end of this time, which is waiting for us, just like this winter. There is still ice on the ground, snow is piled up on both sides of the road, and pedestrians are wrapped up. The cold existence of this park reminds me of the other side of my life. Life can't always be full of flowers, and the full moon is just an expectation. But expectations are better than no expectations. Life is such a process of ups and downs to see the whole world.

I am the only one in the park at this time. I turned around alone, hoping to say goodbye to this park I met occasionally with an elegant turn, and then leave with the inspiration it gave me. After a few steps, looking back, the park in winter night was dark and dilapidated, which looked like a wasteland of life. It buried something with dark and cold silence. It stretched out a hand from the darkness and tried to drag me in. On the one hand, I felt tempted, on the other hand, I added my inner fear. Finally, I had to go to Kaminooji and escape to the brightly lit streets of the city.

But in the street, I still feel a desolate breath coming from behind and following me. The thick shadow of the park seems to be still behind me, so I can't breathe, and my heart feels heavy and depressed, as if I were running in a desolate time.

There is always something beautiful that belongs to me.

"Memories fade away and fall on my side, and I can't wake up the original beating picture ..."

-inscription

The past is in a hurry, and before it can be recorded, it flashes by, hoping to return to the past primary school era;

Memory is in a hurry, and there is no trace before it can be examined. I look forward to growing up quickly.

Hate the speed of time, faster than the disappearance of meteors;

Worrying about the passage of time is lighter than the sound of rain falling;

When can I stop reading the footprints of the years? Even if I am not good at art, I will try my best to draw your picture.

For example.

Perhaps, I really don't understand why the seasons change every year. I have been looking for my own wonderful, yes.

Ah, it's always beautiful, but there's always something beautiful for me!

In a blink of an eye, I traveled all the teaching buildings with my schoolbag on my back, and finally left my footprints on the teaching building of Grade Three.

I really can't imagine. It seems that I spent "June 1" with my classmates in the primary school campus yesterday! at present

God, I'm in grade three.

I feel sorry for myself, and now I "study hard and have a heavy task". I always feel that my parents don't understand me, and sometimes I really have to.

I'm so tired, my parents seem to only care about studying.

Or a recent thing:

I came back from the outside in high spirits and went into the house. I found the atmosphere very strange. My father was livid, and so was my mother.

My aunt and I sat together playing drums. I tried to sneak in, but I was stopped.

"Come here." That was my mother's voice, "Tell me about your monthly exam?" Dad asked.

"I ... I ..." I faltered.

"Do you think we won't know if you don't tell us?"

"You don't promise to study hard? That's it? "

"Aren't you ashamed?"

"What if I can't get into high school?"

……。

"This is not what I thought. Are you bored? "

My retort stunned my mother. Then, I didn't see how she came. My mother called me angrily.

Slap.

Burying my face, I rushed into the room, dissatisfied with their "education".

I've thought a lot. The scene is still clear in my memory. Time flies. I didn't.

The ability to control it;

Perhaps, my childhood was wonderful, and my present life is not what I want.

Perhaps, when I grow up, the beauty that belongs to me will come back;

I want to keep this faded memory to pursue my own wonderful. ...