Even though a long time has passed, I still remember what happened that day under the sunset. The following is the "Prose under the Sunset" compiled by me for everyone. You are welcome to read it. It is for reference only. I hope it will be helpful to you. Chapter 1: Prose under the Sunset
People will always grow up slowly, and when they grow up, they will understand the taste of bitterness and bitterness. When I grew up, I never had the chance to stay with my mother and let her accompany me, holding my little hand and taking me for a walk. As the sun sets, everything is changing, and I am no exception.
The sky was infected with a bright red, and the light shone gently on my and my mother’s faces. My mother held my little hand and pointed to the half-body sun in front of me that was blocked by the mountains. It seems that I want to race against the sun. My mother knew that there would be no results in doing so, but she stayed childish and naive with me. This is the scene when I went to kindergarten when I was four years old and my mother took me home.
On a country road, a group of "ponytails" jumped for joy and ran fast. The brisk footsteps reflect relaxation, happiness and freedom. The wild flowers on the roadside were waving to us, and the grass was humming songs. Under the setting sun, the corners of our mouths always naturally raise, what a beautiful arc! At that time, our bodies always exuded an irresistible youthful atmosphere! This is the scene when I was ten years old and my friends and I came home from school!
On the horizon, the red sun looked as listless as if it had suffered from heatstroke. There seems to be something missing in the fresh air. I was riding my bicycle alone, and the heavy schoolbag on my back made me breathless. I’m thinking about what homework I have to do when I get home, and what I should do if I don’t do well in the exam! There is no room for anything else in my heart. As the sun sets, this figure looks lonely and panicked. This is the scene when I come home from school now.
It is indeed wonderful to think of the time together, but it is still a memory after all. The current pressure and failure are indeed annoying, but they are the only way for us to achieve glory. After all, the edge of a sword is sharpened, and the fragrance of plum blossoms comes from the bitter cold.
In fact, the process of growing up is like a photo album. Whether it is sour, sweet, bitter or spicy, it has been frozen forever. You can only go on with a smile if you can't remember it. When I grow up, I turn through the pages of photos, which is the aggregation of growth and youth.
Happiness will not stay with us forever, and setbacks will leave us silently. This is growth! This is the time! Grow up happily and bloom happily like a flower! Chapter 2: Prose under the Sunset
One afternoon in October, I stood by the Wanyuan River, admiring the sunset as it slowly set.
Looking from a distance, the setting sun looks like a big jade plate with clouds on it, as if it is about to eat. The faint light of the setting sun shines on the Wanyuan River, setting a bright golden edge on the Wanyuan River. The setting sun is like a little magician, scattering many shining and magical little stars, making Wanyuan River sparkle.
Looking closer, the sunset seemed to be magnified by a magnifying glass, so big and red. The sunset seemed to say to me: "My child, it's getting late, go home quickly, your mother should worry about you!" Dad nodded from time to time, indicating that it was time to go back. I was very unhappy, but Dad still had to go back. That means it's time to use the trick, "Dad, Mom said I wanted to take some pictures. Since you insist on going back, then go back!" After listening to me, Dad took out the camera without stopping and took pictures. After taking a few photos, I laughed.
After a long time, half of Sunset’s face slowly sank into the clouds, as if he were a child who was afraid of the cold and hid in the bed. But not long after he crawled into the bed, a gust of wind blew over him. The clouds blew away, the sunset disappeared from the quilt, and it was so cold! The cloud said: "Father Sun, although I am gone, there are other clouds. Goodbye!" Slowly, the other half of his face also sank. My father and I took several photos of the sunset as it was about to set, but we still didn’t forget the task our mother gave us.
When I got home, my mother said expectantly: "Where are the photos?" I said: "In the bag." My mother opened the bag, took out the camera, and said: "The sunset is so beautiful! Look at it. I want to go next time." I said, "That's okay, as long as you are not afraid of the cold." Seeing my mother's face so red, my father and I both laughed.
I like the sunset and everything about it. Chapter 3: Prose under the Sunset
Speaking of being moved, people in the world will be moved by various things. Maybe it’s because of the mutual help between friends, or the mutual respect between teachers and classmates, or more likely, the love given to each other by strangers. However, what moved me was the love my mother gave me.
That afternoon, the sun was slowly running towards the west. I was at the back of the queue, waiting for my dad to pick me up and take me home. A few days ago, when school was over, my mother came to pick me up. In order to avoid a car, she pushed hard on the ground and sprained her foot. It still hurts a lot these days, so I can’t come pick me up. This task fell on my father's shoulders.
School was over, and with a burst of music, the school door slowly opened. The students inside rushed out, and the parents outside also hurried in. The school gate was suddenly crowded.
The sun is still running slowly to the west.
The last sunshine is warm and red. As usual, I became the last one in the class.
There was a small piece of grass next to the security room. I walked slowly over and sat down on a stone under the tree. A breeze blew by, and a maple leaf fell on my head. I impatiently shook it to the ground and continued to daze.
The square is now empty. Why hasn't dad come to pick me up? He usually comes very early, why is he so late today? I got up to make a call, but there were too many people near the phone, so I had to walk back to the stone in despair and continue to wait.
In my restlessness, a familiar and gentle voice sounded in my ears. I raised my head suddenly, "Mom, why are you here?" I watched my mother limping towards me. As we walked forward, the rays of sunset shone on my mother, and her face flushed. Mom didn't answer my question, she just limped out with me and rode an electric bike.
Later, I found out that my father suddenly received a notice and went on a business trip. My mother couldn't bear to let others pick me up, so she insisted on doing it herself. After a long time, when I talked about this incident with my mother, she no longer remembered such a thing. Perhaps, in the eyes of my parents, this was really a trivial matter, but I I was deeply moved and will always be remembered in my heart.