BlossomParker

Joined June 2022

43 stories

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Stories (43)

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The Purse
As far as I can remember my mother did not have a real purse, she always wrapped the money in a handkerchief and carried it in her arms. The money inside did not look like much, but when we needed it, my mother would not hesitate to open it.
By BlossomParker4 years ago in Fiction
The last river
Once again, I came to the town in the late afternoon in the spring breeze. Dense clouds were coalescing in the western sky, and the sun was shining through its gaps, painting the town's largest intersection with a stream of vehicles of all colors in a golden glow, like a Buddhist scene. When the green light came on across the street, I cautiously crossed the national highway to the sidewalk on the east side of the provincial highway. A refreshing coolness reminded me that the Back River was at my feet. As the name of the Back River prompted me to imagine the flowing waterfall and the lush forest, my mind wrapped itself around its subtext, such as "jade ribbon" or myrrh.
By BlossomParker4 years ago in Fiction
I'm ashamed of my mom
I have been working hard, living hard, pursuing my dreams hard, just hoping to succeed, hoping to get my life together. Its purpose is to make my mother happy for me, so that my mother will not worry about me.
By BlossomParker4 years ago in Fiction
The Bitter Chicken
In fact, the chicken was originally a domestic chicken, but its owner, Liao Ma, moved away and never came back, so it became a wild chicken with no control over the day and no land to collect.
By BlossomParker4 years ago in Fiction
The melody hidden in the heart
Sunday, nothing to do, walking through the bustling streets, to a quiet alley, suddenly, a long-lost audio floating and came, instantly haunted my whole body, straight into the heart of the softest part.
By BlossomParker4 years ago in Fiction
An indelible impression
As an art teacher in Nanchang 28th Middle School and after I retired from this position, the voices and smiles of the two female teachers would often come to my eyes. Their noble charisma, gentle temperament and enterprising, knowledgeable learning have left a deep impression on my life path.
By BlossomParker4 years ago in Fiction
Who moved the strings of the blossoms
You know what. 　　In a previous life I was a fleeting flower. The momentary life to perceive the ebullience of the wind. I opened the fragrance of a lover's eyes and absorbed your warm, melancholy gaze. You pity the pity of a flower that is easy to pass away, so that I in this life to step through the sea of persistence, to find the figure of your fantasy dream.
By BlossomParker4 years ago in Fiction