Aynaz Saboori
Bio
How to explain? How to understand? What do we do with all the injustice?
Stories (75)
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Infatuation is a disease that is difficult to cure
When I open a few magazines in my spare time, every article is a dead love-hate relationship. Perhaps women are animals who live for their feelings, and once a rational, mature woman falls in love, she will lose her mind. Pédorffy a famous poem written to call for freedom, after the use of many infatuated people, only the first two lines remain: "Life is valuable, love is more expensive." Infatuation has evolved into a strange disease.
By Aynaz Saboori3 years ago in Fiction
Gave up on you, but never gave up on loving you
It is said that people are hallucinating when they are desperate, and the suffering I once experienced, I only treasure in my heart. Every lonely, unoccupied night, I can only quietly look at the deep night sky and guess. When the night's appendage overwhelms under the cold of silence, I can only tremble and cry. The pale face stared at the place that only belongs to you, and roared with all his might, in the moment of illusion broken, my scarlet eyes, only to see you leave when the gloomy gaze, my heart suddenly broke. Listen to what they say, this feeling is called death...
By Aynaz Saboori3 years ago in Fiction
Crossing Experiment
Robert told his wife that he had invented the present-to-future round-trip machine, and he was going to see it in 20 years, and he would be home in about five minutes. After saying that, he went into the basement, which is where he did his scientific experiments.
By Aynaz Saboori3 years ago in Fiction
Secret Witness
Roque Island is a scenic tourist mecca. The abundant sunshine, warm water, soft sandy beaches, a wide variety of flying birds, and abundant fruits attract thousands of people who come to visit the island. Many luxurious villas have been built on the island to accommodate tourists.
By Aynaz Saboori3 years ago in Fiction
Soul Breaks Blue Bridge
A military vehicle pulled up on Waterloo Bridge and British Colonel Roy Cronin stepped out of it. Cronin stepped out of the car. He took out ivory carved good luck charm from his pocket and gazed at it alone from the railing, a love affair of twenty years ago was in sight ......
By Aynaz Saboori3 years ago in Fiction
60 meters of mother's love
That year, she went to Suzhou alone and had just settled into her place when her mother's phone calls came one after another, and when she didn't answer, her mother sent another text message. "Girl, tell mommy, where are you?" "Mom just wants so much for you to have a good future. Maybe I'm not going about it the right way, but mom's only original intention is one ......" After further thought, she sent a text message back to her mother, "Mom, I'm fine and learning sand painting. Don't try to find me, or I'll disappear again so you can't find me. I'm just too tired and want to take a break."
By Aynaz Saboori3 years ago in Fiction
A box full of love
after losing my mother when I was 5 years old, my father worked two jobs. When he died of liver cancer at age 75, I was completely devastated. I was hoping he would stay alive, but now I was forced to face his closet and five drawers and throw away or give away his things because one never knows what one will pass on to those who need it.
By Aynaz Saboori3 years ago in Fiction
How long does it take for the tears to fall
When I was 6 years old, my father went to work at a construction site in Shanghai. My father saw the Bund and the Oriental Pearl for the first time, saw the busy Nanjing Road, and saw the huge gap between our small mountain village and big Shanghai, my father was worried. He did not want his daughter to take his path in the future, he wanted his daughter to get ahead in the future, can go to Shanghai, can live a happy life. The father quietly clenched his fist and secretly made up his mind: no matter how hard it would be in the future, he would bring up his daughter.
By Aynaz Saboori3 years ago in Fiction
Mothers are also vulnerable
When I was a child, my mother always scolded me for being like a piece of wood because I was not very articulate growing up. When she lectured me, I always confronted her with a vicious expression, while my brother and sister, both of whom were articulate. As a result, of the 3 children, I always felt that she disliked me the most.
By Aynaz Saboori3 years ago in Fiction
