The story composition of time

In study, work or life, everyone is familiar with composition. Composition is a verbal activity in which people express their thoughts in written form. You always have no way to write a composition? The following is the story composition of my collection of time, which is for reference only and I hope it will help everyone.

Time story composition 1 Time always passes like running water. Yesterday, like the yellow flower of the past, after blooming all its brilliance, it is silent in a corner of memory, waiting for one day to set foot on it again inadvertently. ...

The teacher told us not to pretend to be a child and innocent in front of me. Innocence has long since disappeared at your age. If anyone is a little naive, he is a fool. I don't like this sentence, I want to refute it, but I am speechless. Come to think of it, this statement is not wrong. Yes, we have grown up, and that innocence really can't adapt to the present life. ...

In the past, I often thought there, what will I do when I grow up one day? Now, I'm thinking about what I did. People never cherish what is in front of them, only when they lose it will they feel distressed.

Now, it's often a little lonely. This was unimaginable before, but now it is true. After all, everyone has grown up and has their own lives. The former friends have already parted ways, and it is not known whether they are destined to meet in this life. In the past, weddings could only be recalled in dreams. I woke up with a surge in my heart, but I was a little disappointed. Finally, I can only sigh. ...

I prefer quiet, but when I'm alone, I'm afraid of loneliness. Just thinking about you there, thinking about the years spent with you, the purest and most beautiful years. Maybe you and I were still so naive at that time, and always felt that this time was so long, but now it is so hasty. It's much bigger now, with much more things and less contact, but I still believe that our feelings will not fade with time.

Your figure often passes in front of my eyes, and I can't forget that memory. Who knows the taste? Maybe you can, maybe. ...

In the dark night, I slept in bed, looked at the dark world outside the window, thought about you, thought about our friendship, and wondered if we would. ...

After all, we are not gods, but only one person. We don't know what will happen in the next moment, and we don't know whether it is a blessing or a curse, but I believe that we will always be friends and our friendship will never change. I look forward to, I look forward to seeing you again one day, my friends.

I wish you all a happy life in the days when you don't meet each other. You will always be my friend. Thank you for spending that song-like time with me.

I have been here for more than a year, and I have left everything here in my heart. From that time last year, I unconsciously compared it with that time last year. I am using my deepest eyes to pay attention to where there are many and where there are few. I don't want to stop its prosperity, I just want to give it my most sincere feelings and look for its story after time has settled.

How many days and nights, back and forth along the stone ladder, in the morning and afternoon, the stone ladder is still a stone ladder, but the grass on both sides of the stone ladder has changed for a season, the steps carried by the stone ladder have increased, and the owners of the steps are much closer to their dreams.

There is a silent pine tree above the stone ladder, so it is rare to say hello to the nearby partners. Is it the injury caused by the fall of pine needles, or is there no wind to transmit its sound? Pine needles fall to the ground, give evergreen praise to continue, and pay it to the fire for the rest of your life.

The lower end of the stone ladder is a flat stone dam with a stone table in the middle. Who left the seeds of the ink on the desktop? After a year of wind and rain, I have grown many sentences. Autumn has been sad and lonely since ancient times. I said autumn is better than spring. It's autumn on an empty mountain after rain. Pen and ink remain unchanged, and ancient rhyme will last forever.

By the dam, the stone bench left traces of spots and leaves. How did the dust and mud get on the stool? I remember from beginning of spring to beginning of winter, people around me were sitting there, rewarding their hard work. Did you bring it from your hometown or on the way? Is it part of success or a brush of dreams?

To the west, the dam is a straight river. The passage is supported by cement columns. The beam is covered with deciduous rattan rope, hugging the beam tightly. I don't think without this problem, they can't climb up and see the farther scenery. Follow the rattan rope to find the source, the closer to the ground.

The thicker the rattan rope, the greater the strength. They are touching and harmonious with each other. They are willing to press down, but it has become a rule to send new vines to high places year after year. Forever, Shinto is the first to see the sun and the most. They are all moved by the quality of this inheritance, and they are also grateful that this period has experienced storms, even if it is lonely, it will be agreed.

At the end of the passage, it's not a pier, it's not a museum, it's a toilet. It is a toilet that people use to clean up filth, and it is rarely mentioned. Many times, toilets are labeled smelly, dirty, dirty and filthy, and there is no way to praise them. It's just this smelly, dirty, dirty place that people can't live without. It is sanitary to discharge dirty things in the toilet.

It is a rogue and a bad habit not to discharge filth in the toilet. Toilets should be a symbol of civilization. Who wrote the toilet as a symbol of civilization in the book? Toilet has another name, which is the result of modern civilization. Toilet. Why is the place where people clean up dirt called the bathroom? Is it hygienic?

The toilet stinks and is lifeless. Unfortunately, it is on the tiny ventilation window of the toilet. In this cold winter, new leaves climb the wall and green buds reverse the seasonal cycle. Why not grow in the soil, but choose to grow in the toilet that people often say stinks and must go?

A road, a day, time series reincarnation, how many storms precipitate into stories; A tree, a season of spring and autumn, how many emotions turn into local conditions and customs. A place that is too familiar to be familiar with often feels strange, even if there are more languages, it can't express the feelings for a moment. Time has passed, perhaps the beauty of that moment has long been forgotten, or more mellow and sweet has been precipitated.

Life needs to be discovered and life needs to be precipitated.

The Story of Time Composition 3 This is a story about my childhood. The story is not very long, but it can change my life.

That was when I was very young, when my family still lived in my hometown and countryside. Well, the countryside is naturally different from the city. The traffic is in different buildings, and dogs and chickens are heard. This is no exaggeration. My neighbor has a dog. It spends a lot of time barking every day, rain or shine. I'm afraid of dogs. The old man in the village said that if bitten by a dog, he would get rabies. Rabies people are delirious, afraid of water and light, and their families will lock him in a dark room and let him die slowly. Every time I walk to my neighbor's door, I will speed up my steps, lest his dog break the chain and catch up and bite my ass mercilessly (maybe because I am short, it will bite my neck). Who knows, it depends on the mood of the dog that day), I will get an incurable disease.

The story between me and this dog happened one afternoon, and I can't remember the year and month. That day, there happened to be a vendor selling eggs and stuffing cakes in the alley. At that time, this kind of thing attracted me as much as women now, so I begged my mother to give me money to buy it. After all kinds of deception, I finally got one yuan (or maybe two yuan) from my mother.

It seems that the vendor stalls in China will always be like this: there are boys and girls; With a runny nose, Hara, do it quietly ... forever. It took me a while to squeeze through the money.

The cake was filled with my beloved eggs, and I jumped home contentedly. Far away, I saw my neighbor's dog lying in the middle of the alley, blocking my way home. Fierce fangs, ferocious face, and his black "armor" ... I slowly moved forward against the wall, for fear that a small gesture would anger it, and then it would come at me mercilessly. It just stared at me and didn't do anything.

Maybe I have burst into tears, maybe I have forgotten to cry.

Just as I was about to get up the courage to cross this dangerous area, it stopped me with a "woof". It stared at my beloved egg filling cake-oh, I was robbed!

I dare not move, let alone run. After all, he has four legs! I would rather lose an egg to fill the cake than let it bite me. I don't want to get rabies and be left in a dark room. I finally gave in. I tore the cake in half and threw half at it. It swaggered over and smelled the cake I threw. "Woof, woof, woof", it barked at me again, and its sharp canine teeth were exposed, imposing. I cried. I was in tears. On reflection, I threw the other half of the pie to it. It sniffed again and then walked away. Only I was left, and the eggs torn in half filled the cake.

I can't remember what happened afterwards. Anyway, this matter has become my secret forever. I kept it in my heart and never told anyone.

I have been thinking that I should have thrown bricks instead of eggs full of cakes.

Now, many years later, I gradually understand that some people around me are like the dogs of the neighbors at that time, and their desires are not what you can fill. If this happens again, I will throw the brick out without mercy!

Time Story Composition 4 Time always flies and time waits for no one. Once it's over, people will grow up. Although childhood is happy, it is also short. Growth is something that everyone has to face.

In kindergarten, I live a carefree life every day. My parents had to go to work during the holidays, so I was taken to my grandmother's house. My grandmother has cousins. The three of us have novel ideas every week. In childhood, we can do anything we want. We are free. But now that I am grown up, the pressure of schoolwork and the discipline of my parents have made me lose my innocence when I was a child. I saw it when I first entered school.

At school, I became good friends with many classmates and went to every corner of the school to explore magical things, but the teacher would teach us how to be a man and let our innocence slowly disappear. With the growth of age, my innocence gradually faded, making me a mature person.

You may delay, but time will not. In a blink of an eye, I will go to junior high school. Childhood has long been a beautiful memory, childhood fantasies, dreams and naivety, and everything has left slightly. Let me become a mature person.

Childhood, like a bubble, is smooth and beautiful, but it exists for a short time. As long as it is influenced by the outside world, it will explode at any time, and that is childhood.

For some special reasons, I was asked to go back to class for a week after graduation for half a year. I was surprised, asked for leave without hesitation, was filled with joy and was ready to go back.

To tell you the truth, I prefer those days of study to work. I didn't expect to go back to experience the students' feelings, which reminded me of the time machine in Doraemon.

The next day, it was slightly bright. I couldn't wait to finish washing and took the bus for two hours. The sprinkler spilled all over the floor for the first time, and the dust was flying in the fresh air in the morning.

It's almost dawn, and there are more and more people on the bus. School and work are crowded in the aisle of the bus, and I sit in the last row by the window, wearing a long ponytail, jeans and canvas shoes, just like a student.

At this time, a big glowing egg yolk gradually appeared over the city, and all around it was dyed red. The first ray of sunshine entered my heart, and through the shade, followed the speed of the bus like hide and seek.

Two hours is neither slow nor fast. After getting off the bus, I rushed to school and saw the bright red characters at the door. I feel excited from the bottom of my heart. When I stepped into this familiar campus, I felt relaxed all over. It is still the purest and most beautiful place. No matter what happens in society, as long as you return to its embrace, you can still stop like a child.

The sunshine melts quietly in the classroom. I heard the long-lost sound of chalk wiping the blackboard, and then the slowly falling chalk ash lay quietly in the corner. I listened attentively to every word the teacher said, trying to remember this feeling at this moment. It's weird. I'm afraid it will end at the beginning.

At noon, the sun penetrated the green shade of the campus and left spots on the stone road. Occasionally, a warm wind blows off the leaves on the trees, and they are flying. I want to roll my last memories into the whirlpool with the wind this summer.

I picked up a fallen leaf, gentle and calm. I don't know who I listened to it with in the earphone. It sang. Our crazy year is getting farther and farther, and our innocent face changes with the seasons. I suddenly became a little sad.

When I entered the canteen, it was already crowded with people. Regardless of the image, we ran to the canteen, every building and every classroom after class, as if it were a grand running race, just to satisfy our long-complained stomach early.

The school has built a new canteen, which is clean and beautiful. There are a group of immature students in school uniforms. I fell into the crowd, looking at a face I didn't know, and suddenly felt a little out of place. I ate my meal quickly and went back to my seat.

The eggplant in the canteen is more delicious than before, but there are fewer people around to eat eggplant. I quickly finished my meal, for fear that others would see through my loneliness.

The afternoon sun is sultry, but the wind is warm. There was no one on the playground, but I vaguely saw the little figure on the runway. The 800-meter-long difficult make-up exam, the girl next to me has been shouting, come on. I still remember that there was no sunshine that day, and the wind was light and cold.

I left the playground and counted gently along the familiar stairs. 123456 ... I still remember that one day, after watching the horror movie "Fox Stairs", we were still counting the stairs step by step after studying at night, and we were startled before we finished counting them. In front of the once familiar classroom, there is a strange house number, inside which are a group of strange and youthful faces, and the TV set is covered with dust. I still remember that at that time, we had to watch the news broadcast on time at 7: 00 every night, and secretly watched Hunan Satellite TV on Friday afternoon. At that time, the class was a big family that gathered from all corners of the country. We were young and familiar with each other.

I went downstairs in a daze, and the sun was covered by dark clouds, and suddenly it was gloomy.

Tick-tock, I looked up. Is it raining? The sun suddenly came out.

I stop and go in every place full of memories on campus, and I have a lot of thoughts.

In fact, we all yearn for beautiful things and want to have a Doraemon, but there is always a pair of hands to pull you into reality and then tell you that without the time machine, many things are lost. Even if you go through it again, you will find that it is not what it used to be. At the end of the first day, I understood this truth.

A week will soon pass, and I will continue to live the life of an office worker. I will often think of that time. I think everyone will need such a process to get used to it.

I never found that thing called a time machine. But I think, one day, it will suddenly appear, maybe in a song, a movie, maybe in my heart.

At the age of six, the world was much more interesting.

I think there is a big monster living at the end of the sky. I spray rain when I am in a good mood. I think the brightest star in the sky is a lighthouse to protect the earth. And the people who guard the lighthouse have been writing long stories.

When I was a child, I always thought I picked it up from the garbage. I can't help but stop in front of the garbage dump and wonder if there is a factory that makes children below. I always thought that dolls have feelings, so I spent a lot of time talking to her and telling her everything about the world with my only knowledge.

When I was a child, I always liked to watch ants move before it rained. Imagine that they have a grumpy or kind queen, and their home is under the soil, where there must be residents with different personalities. I played a lot when I was a child, but I never considered whether they liked me or not. I don't have to be polite to each other. I always take the time to express my sincerity. Love, sadness and pain are clearly written on the face.

When I was a child, I thought it was much easier to have money. Boys shoot foreign films, play pinball, win small things and put them in bulging pockets with satisfaction; The girl folded a silver ring from the tin foil paper in grandpa's cigarette case and put it on her finger, shining in the sun. These were already rich for us at that time.

When I was a child, when I was a child, I wanted to write for a hundred hours, but when I grew up, I didn't want to write that.

I once told a five-year-old boy that there are little witches in this world who fly across the sky with brooms on a full moon night. I express it sincerely, and I believe it myself.

A year later, the child said I lied to him, but his expression wanted me to refute him, so I said, "Yes, yes, really, but if all the children don't believe it, it will really disappear." Then, I never looked him in the eye again, fearing that the witch in my mind would disappear.

Now, in my heart, there is a monster named rain who lives at the end of the sky. On the brightest star, the tower keeper, whose long book list is full of stories forgotten by children. When it rains, the rain beast will land from distant space with those forgotten words. If you see an adult who can't help throwing away his umbrella naughtily, it must be the rain that reminds him of a story that was forgotten when he was a child.

Story of Time Composition 7 Life is a story, and the story of primary school time is the most shining and eternal. Now I have to leave this story, and I am busy looking for the gate of memory to find my good time again. ...

acquaintance

The school gate is close at hand. Behind us is the closed door of childhood, and in front of us is a brand-new world. I was surrounded by crying, noise, sweaty little hands and anxious eyes. I didn't cry, I felt curious, happy and eager. I soon took a sacred step into the school gate, and all the stories began like this.

There are not many people in the classroom, scattered in every corner. What a strange face! I feel vaguely uneasy. The number of people gradually increased and the classroom became lively. I silently huddled aside and watched them "talk". On that day, I only remember that the teacher called his name loudly. I was "shut down" by the teacher in the classroom and there was something called "class". After class, they all played together, but I stayed alone in the corner ... The dull picture is now vivid.

Know each other well

"Ma Xinyue, look at this chrysanthemum, it finally opened today!" "Ma Xinyue, I caught a snail!" In the warm sunshine at noon, we walked in the small garden of the school. Breeze across the face, brought laughter like a bell, in the lush campus, we play, jump, touch the grass, smell the flowers. In colorful scenes, there are always several happy figures passing by.

In art class, the classroom is boiling. "Hey, have you used up the pen you borrowed?" "What about this painting?" "Wow, it's so beautiful!" All kinds of jokes and noises come and go, which makes the classroom particularly lively and lovely. Colorful paper is dazzling, brushes are flying up and down, and gorgeous moments are drawn with the joy and happiness of childhood and the hope and expectation of growth.

In the quiet library, we eagerly absorb knowledge. Sometimes I look up at my classmates for a while and then laugh quietly. Or a look, use the language of the book to express your inner thoughts. Books were really indispensable at that time. A book has built a bridge of hearts, long or short, and a broad road to find a bosom friend.

Year after year, with a smile, we are familiar with and run in. With the growth of the body ...

individually

I'm graduating soon. It's been five years. How can you just leave? But in the court of time, we are powerless to resist. Then, during the short recess, suddenly and quietly, a tender activity quietly began-collecting alumni records.

Parting is inevitable, unforgettable and indelible. This is our belief. So, the classroom was full of lovely whispers: "Have you finished writing?" "Write a longer message." "Give me a photo." "Don't forget me!" These words are full of friendship and disappointment, and we have never been so harmonious and United.

Now, the class next door has hung up the countdown to graduation, and the bright red numbers are condensed with the blood and tears of the students, which will always be engraved in the memory. Say goodbye to primary school.

The story composition of time 8 Holding "Morning Flowers Picking Up in the Evening", I met an extraordinary sense of interest under the wisteria frame. A gentle breeze blew, bringing a gorgeous wisteria flower and my warm heart experience of "morning flowers and evening flowers".

As the name implies, the morning flowers pick up in the evening, which reminds me that it is a flower with dew and fragrance. Due to the passage of time, it ended its life at this glorious moment in the morning. At night, people picked it up and treasured it, giving it a second life! The title also reveals that Lu Xun has entered his twilight years, missing the past and yearning for youth. The images of Mr. Shou Jason Wu and Mr. Fujino are very prominent in this article. At that time, during the war years, they were still indomitable and tirelessly teaching students. Although Mr. Shou is strict on the surface, he is kind, simple, old-fashioned, knowledgeable, broad-minded, cheerful and strict with his students. There is also Mr Fujino. Although he is Japanese, at that time, the Japanese killed people without batting an eye, but Mr Fujino treated students like children, and he didn't show special respect to China people because of the restrictions of national boundaries. He is very amiable, broad-minded, selfless, correct, simple, meticulous in teaching, very rigorous, tireless, and has noble moral cultivation.

When Lu Xun described his youth, he also complained about social symptoms, how sinister the society was, how ugly and hypocritical the people were, and how full of lies. Due to the morbid society, Lu Xun stepped into a childhood full of childlike innocence and was deeply damaged by feudal social education, sprouted rebellious thoughts, left home and embarked on a different road, breaking out of his own world, and finally became a patriotic youth and revolutionary Democrat, and devoted himself to the revolutionary cause.

"Flowers in the Morning" also uses a lot of descriptive techniques in narrative, and focuses on the movements, images and languages of the characters, creating so many distinctive characters, making the article more interesting and vivid, and making the characters jump from the page. There are also various rhetorical devices such as comparison, exaggeration, contrast and metaphor to increase the connotation of the article. The language of the article is free and easy, fresh and smooth, clean and beautiful, cordial and touching, full of humor. When describing childhood, the language is playful and lovely, highlighting the naughty, curious and lovely image of childhood.

Lu Xun's boyhood is far more interesting than the book. When is our youth not rich and interesting? Just pay attention, get close to nature and be a teenager. What an endless story!