Infinity
Tomorrow is another day. The premise is that tomorrow exits; it’s not the same day going round and round.
The cursed forest was dark and silent, haunted by shadows and unseen presences. Everything was so gloomy throughout the year, except sometimes a faint glimmers of broken daylight thrust out through the clouds and treetops, only to illuminate the dust in air, and soon vanished. The enormous trees were twined by thorns, on which poppy flowers were in full bloom, red as a flame.
“That’s probably the brightest color in this dame place.” Alex murmured.
He got up at four and set out on foot to hunt black grouse. Whenever the meat was salted away for future use, or had been left out for days and started to smell, he would go for seek something new.
the huntsman crossed a small iron bridge over a meandering stream. The stream had frozen up; he could see the fish trapped in the ice. In spring or summer, especially when monsoons started, sudden rainstorms would bring the mountain torrents rushing down; and this creek used to get flooded for ages. The heavy rains and flooding killed scores of beasts; sometimes the climbers were stranded by a fierce storm which went on for days and eventually died of starvation. Those bodies, whether animals or human beings, were swollen and floating on the river in full spate that roared through the place where he lived.
The cursed forest was dark and silent, haunted by shadows and unseen presences. Everything was so gloomy throughout the year, except sometimes a faint glimmers of broken daylight thrust out through the clouds and treetops, only to illuminate the dust in air, and soon vanished. The enormous trees were twined by thorns, on which poppy flowers were in full bloom, red as a flame.
“That’s probably the brightest color in this dame place.” Alex murmured.
He got up at four and set out on foot to hunt black grouse. Whenever the meat was salted away for future use, or had been left out for days and started to smell, he would go for seek something new.
the huntsman crossed a small iron bridge over a meandering stream. The stream had frozen up; he could see the fish trapped in the ice. In spring or summer, especially when monsoons started, sudden rainstorms would bring the mountain torrents rushing down; and this creek used to get flooded for ages. The heavy rains and flooding killed scores of beasts; sometimes the climbers were stranded by a fierce storm which went on for days and eventually died of starvation. Those bodies, whether animals or human beings, were swollen and floating on the river in full spate that roared through the place where he lived.
李白被7人×哭
