Last night, dream, in my hometown image clarity and strange. I stood alone on the road, like a stray lamb, cannot find the direction of the home. Wake up, tears wet the pillow.Home, the sweet of a sad words, has gradually been forgotten in my mind, leave to follow their parents into the city school at the age of twelve, for home all memory only before the age of twelve. Time in a hurry, a swing, left his hometown for twenty years. More than 20 years of distance, space, time, as if become so far away. For me, the concept of home gradually blurred, is likely to be from then on, the hometown of the cicadas, wow sound of home, home of the moon, the stars seem to disappear from my life, everything homeland is rooted in my memory.
Flash, for more than twenty years. Twenty years, I have to go home for a few days, as always in a hurry, too late to bypass back to hometown to visit my mother, and I don't know whether the mother resentment (when her mother died, I'm still a minor, local customs, the daughter of a maiden can't offer, I haven't been to, now think about the kind of stupid). Mother's voice, leaning against the door, anxiously waiting for me, as if still not come back again, yesterday, there are so long time, to be able to back to hometown to see and feel the love of his hometown, touching the hometown of land, to the mother's tombs on the new earth, in retrospect whether home stays with the smell of my happy childhood.
Childhood friends, already can't remember, only happy time remaining in the memory. The dahlia, who has the same birthday with me it is two years older than me, and sixth uncle four elder sister the same age of my childhood is the best partner, I don't know whether they like me, also in a small town, far from home to a happy life. Today, standing in the city, far from home hundreds of miles away the window of a warm, I try to recall the dream home.
The days out of the window, a grey. Probably it's going to snow. I'm looking forward to to snow, the next are connected to the home of the snow. Members of the elves, let this winter I overflow from homesickness