The tenderness buried in the street corner

Have you ever had a picture that makes you unforgettable and sad? Have you ever shed tears on those shallow tenderness? Have you ever thought and lamented the person who loved you in the most humble but intentional way?
Every morning when I wake up in junior high school is dawn, even in summer. It’s just the 16-year-old sky. I think it’s already getting dark, because I’m always working hard, doing my homework, and then getting a static score. It’s not that I didn’t want to give up, but one evening and morning later, I began to understand the meaning of persistence.
Home is in the village, across a long lane, only to enter the lane and go straight to my home. But whether I get home or go home, I will always be greeted by the dark blue sky in the evening, even if the sunset has more beauty than the warmth and warmth of home. Although the mood at home always with light guilt.
The sky darkened and sunk at nearly six o’clock, and the street lights in the village began their duty of lighting. At this time, the school bus finally put me down at the last stop, dragging a long tail gas, winding away from the winding village path. When did the moon secretly reveal its face?
It’s really time to prepare for the evening. Every time at this time, I’m always tired, weak and decadent. Walk home step by step in the dim light with the illusory pace.
However, at the moment when I looked up and looked down, I could see the figure standing at the entrance of the lane blurred and clear gradually. The dim street lamp shone a light soft light on his white shirt washed. His hands overlapped behind his back as usual. At this time, the serious and old-fashioned appearance was simple and warm.
When I saw him, my heart was suddenly wrapped in an unspeakable warmth, fine and dense, like rain, moistening things into my heart like silence, as if in a moment, these warmth and illusion into countless sprouting bamboo shoots like life, blooming in my 16-year-old once extremely gray sky.
His eyes seemed to be waiting for a distant person to return, dim and long, even though I thought I had never gone far. And when he saw me, his eyes became as quiet as the dust settled down, clear and peaceful, and he saw that my heart was extremely stable.
He always goes out of the lane silently, and another stands in the corner of the lane silently, waiting for me to come home from school.
His gentleness is always like the flowers blooming in the corner, leaving incense in silence on the street corner.
Rest time at home is always short and rush. Later, I found out that not only before, but also after. When I leave, I come again as always, just like the leaves turn yellow, always drifting off branches, and I always, leave and return, return and leave.
Before daybreak, I have to get up early to go to school again. Monday to Thursday is a night at home. Mother got up early to prepare breakfast for me. I finished eating in a hurry, carried a heavy schoolbag on my back, and set foot on the road to school again. No matter how dark and secluded the road is, I always have to walk alone.
I know that he went out of the lane silently, stood silently on that street corner, and looked at my school back quietly.
There seems to be a lot of strength under my feet. Even though I have crossed the bridge, I am really far away from the village and from him, but I have become brave.
Because I knew that he had watched my departure behind me in silence. So, in order to wait for me to return and see me go, I understand that I should not be cowardly any more.
No matter how far and unknown the future is, I would like to put on heavy armor for that gentle, waving a strange sword in my hand, cutting off a corner for it, so that it can blossom as before.