Childhood memories

Childhood memories is gray.Then living in a remote small village, maybe 4, 5-year-old child showed prowess?Anyway, there was no friends, no partner, dress up every day is wearing an uncle of American soldiers to do with a newspaper-style warship hat, hands carrying a pistol ink to black wood, like a motley guerrillas left behind as in grandma’s house in front of a large willow back and patrol.Before grandfather died willow tree was cut down, everyone nostalgia.Willow is in front of a river, the river there are willow.Father said the former great river, when heavy rain can not cross the river, you can not go to school.Now the river had dried up, reddish-brown river bed naked, barren.The year is most proud of is the father have a brand new bike, permanent license, or Phoenix.Now, like the pride of driving without a license rampage certainly used car on the street drivers boast of evil associates who he just ran a red light.Why then are most interested in is the hand or foot pedal, the wheel will turn; most are desperately obsessed with a hand, eyes staring at the wheel rotating quickly, and then pinch the brakes suddenly, forcing the wheel Ga however, only.Once a good time, unknowingly bike down, heavy pressure on the body, and the head against the pigs trough, had a taste of a big mouth animal food.It must be earth-shattering cries.(Read the article Net: WWW.sanwen.Direct consequence COM) accident was kicked by his father, long-term effects are on the bike at arm’s length from that many years later began to learn to ride a motorcycle bikes.And since a few years ago fell from the motorcycle slipping out of 30 meters, lying in bed for three months, either on motorcycles or bicycles are afraid to close.Childhood memories is incoherent.Worst failure is with the aunt’s cousin had a fight, his face has left scars; the most embarrassing scenes adults joked that the family of the village’s most run-down two dirty girl to be my wife, scared too afraid to go out a few days.Childhood memories are not clear.How can not remember how the leg is lame cousin, nicknamed Shoko is how to become a stammer, two girl who later married, I heard her every day, beaten, she gave birth to three daughters.Childhood memories seems to be only so much, seems to have dried up along with the river, it has been forgotten.Many years later, standing in the shade of the old willow once, through the setting sun, such as blood mottled, as if to see the bleak valley slowly towards a hung old ox cart, the other end of the cow plodding faithful pace.Reclining on board frail, exhausted grandfather, tightly cling to the side with his gray-haired grandmother had each other.