It is a rainy day in the South with wind and rain. Today’s storm is for the warmer sunshine tomorrow. New hopes are constantly breeding in my heart, and occasionally there are images of desperation. All encounters in the world are either hate early or hate late. At that time, we could never catch the tail of fate. So I kept running away, pretending to be stupid, afraid that time would leave quietly, youth would be lost, and fate would no longer exist. Who have you become? But too much insincere. I was afraid that regardless of all the courage, I was just a straw, waiting quietly, sitting on the ground, looking up at the sky, full of stars, autumn harvest wheat cutting straw field, Scarecrow shaking with the wind, I gently patted the dust on my body, mr. Scarecrow, I am the little girl beside you, inviting you to dance for me. You are a living life, a faithful guardian, and the birds also stop on your shoulders, whispering and telling your deep attachment to you, while you stick to it silently and remain indifferent. The bird flew away disappointedly. Another summer, in the golden wheat field, the wind lifted a corner of the little girl’s skirt and swung with the wind. The Scarecrow behind her fell asleep with birds lying on her shoulder after experiencing the snow and shabby clothes.

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