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Writer's pictureCONG nguyen

S’mores not wars shirt

The old man followed the tea burden of peach S’mores not wars shirt through three roads. The old man, the nose and eyes attached, forty-six years, easy to recognize each other. Just think, it seems like a very long time to know each other, especially the voice of the tea house, like singing, from the wrinkled lips lifted up, soaring, sweet and smooth to hear every word. Mr. Nine was shocked to recognize the Red Peach though her old beauty was no more, the face was wrinkled, the black pigeon, the high neck was now almost collapsed because of the burden of mind and life piled up. He called for two hours. But tears dropped. Mr. Chin took her hand, told him, asked where to go, he said, coming home in the afternoon. She said that to get her some things, he told her to leave, her life had any other assets besides burdens of tea on her shoulders, a hut of leaves tore up on the pond at the end of the alley. The Afternoon House was at the far end of the Alley Tree.



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