Amparo Hassan
Bio
Waiting quietly, hoping it will get better
Stories (6)
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Dad, why are your hands so ugly?
When I was little, sitting in the sun, stretching out my little hand, the breeze delicately stroking it, so comfortable, the little hand is a really tender, so white, so cute. At this time there is another hand, it is so rough, so black, some places even cracked, so ugly and ugly! Whose hand is this? Oh, it turned out to be my father's hand.
By Amparo Hassan3 years ago in Fiction
I am an ant
I am very small, like sweet black sesame seeds, the whole body is covered with bland black, is dark at night to make people afraid of black, perhaps the night cracked into pieces after the human is not afraid of us, because humans are not afraid of us at all, in their eyes, we ants small without the slightest can fight them.
By Amparo Hassan3 years ago in Fiction
Mother, you make me grow up
When I was young, I often complained that you control too much, home late from school to control, Sunday to the creek to catch fish to control, and play with small partners to control, watched TV close to control, and wrote homework on the table to control, as if all this is in the jurisdiction of the mother, looking at the brother went out to play alone, they feel that it is not biological to do so, so they look forward to growing up quickly, to get out of the constraints of the mother sooner. The first thing you need to do is to get out of your mother's way and start living your own life sooner.
By Amparo Hassan3 years ago in Families
I am a language book
Hello everyone! I am an ordinary language book, my name is "language 1" because my master Zhang Li every language test is the first, so I called "language 1", I can be proud of her, my master not only good language, other subjects are also great. However, my master's table's book, that is, "Language 48" its owner, ah, alas, it is difficult to say ah, the results have been at the bottom, he "Language 48" can be fierce, either thrown on the floor or tear the book, can be painful, I and it is not the same. Look, how lucky I am!
By Amparo Hassan3 years ago in Fiction
Lantern Night
The grass-colored smoke in the curl of smoke, telling the hometown of a little human taste of the expectation of the soft wind on the face of the years wrinkled, provoking thin gruel into a glutinous. To prepare for the night, people had to put the scarlet sunset on their bodies, so as not to disturb the warm night.
By Amparo Hassan3 years ago in Fiction
