1, manager Feng apologized, but manager Lei ignored it. While I was still on my way home, the clouds began to splash. At first, I didn't care about the little things. Later, it was so dense that I didn't escape. God, I don't have an umbrella. In my hurry, I bumped into your arms. Since then, I have walked into the wind and rain all my life.
2, the green lake fragrance, thin rain, slowly falling into the water, with a little ripple. The wind is blowing the sunset, with a hint of purples. Lotus moves, leaves produce waves, raindrops, pool songs, Yu He accompanied by sunset all night, Wan Li waves once autumn waters.
It rained in the city yesterday. From morning till night, from east to west, the continuous rain, with a chill, spilled all over the floor, but with a lilac-like complex. In the drizzle, countless eager eyes converge on the bright starry sky at night.
Once familiar with the city, how suddenly it began to rain, dripping with natural and unrestrained display, sad is that the reinforced concrete is neat, the storm is coming, lightning flashes across, tearing the sky, rain is tears, tears are rain, the pouring river is surging, drowning the face of the city, the soul seeking dreams, fleeing, scattered on the edge of emerging cities, full of sadness.
It's raining, and the air is filled with melancholy. An inexplicable sadness locked my brow and could not cover up my inner fear. Be careful that I am so lonely and afraid of being torn to pieces. I tried to hide it, but it was even more frightening. Life is really unreasonable.
I'm speechless-it's raining and emptiness is scattered in the clouds. This time, I didn't make progress. I said a thousand words, but I couldn't say a word. When my thoughts are filtered and washed, I try to follow the rules, but my life is really speechless.
I speak for myself-it's raining, my thoughts are occupied, I walk with heavy steps, my thoughts, my accommodation, the lonely rain.
5. Rain, light rain, falls on straw hats, umbrellas, cloth shoes and sunglasses. Xiaoyu is too timid to disturb even a trace of dust. When he approaches your helix, he has no reckless tongue and no eloquence like a rainstorm. Walking in the light rain, I remembered my friend.
He is very young and hates the rain in Mao Mao. He said it was too monotonous and too troublesome. He is a poet of thunderstorm and a painter of sunshine. Walking in the drizzle, I thought of him. I haven't heard from him for a long time, except that he is still here. The environment is not very good, but he is very motivated. The drizzle aroused my nostalgia, deep and deep. I really hope to meet him in this light rain and come to me. I think he will be as usual.