Mr. Floating Dream just wants to write

The pharmacist turned to the next page, and unexpectedly, the page was blank.He turned a few pages back, again blank, the story was only half, it was a book without an end.

Not sure why the writer would stop the pen and just let it sit there, but no doubt there is a subtle discomfort to this sort of thing.Some people are moving forward, but some people have stayed there forever.After closing the book, the drug seller stroked the cover of the book with his hand, and raised his head.

"Is this book still being written?"

Fumeng propped her face, "It should be possible." His attitude was a little careless, with a little hesitation.There are many times when a book suddenly stops developing and its creator doesn't continue to write the story.Some are physical, family, or various other reasons, which are physical, but others are psychological and spiritual.

For example, suddenly lost interest, don't want to continue writing, or don't know how to write.There are all kinds of reasons for creators to stop, even the simplest one, not wanting to write, can be a reason.Although the author is comfortable in this way, the reader is not happy.

Even if the ending is so bad that I wish I hadn't seen the ending of this ending, it is enough to make readers ask countless times that this story continue to be written.People are always interested in what they can't get, even if what they get in the end will disappoint them greatly.It's a pity that human beings are always like this and don't have a long memory.

"Let's write this story later." Fu Meng played with the pen in her hand, her eyes were a little empty. After this, it will probably take a long, long time.

The drug seller put the book back, "Then, I'll just wait."

......

Crexby was walking down the corridor carrying a tray, on which was a bone china tea set with gilded irises.There are not only Japanese traditional styles here, but also Western styles, which can be unified and indeed the sense of time and space disorder. The traditional Japanese style is the main style, and the Western style is supplemented, which makes people go back to a hundred years ago.

Open the door, it is not a tatami mat, a soft carpet is spread on the floor, a pen holder is placed on the table in front of the window, the man in front of the desk only leaves a back view, the warm golden sunlight shines in through the glass, like a crow The feathery black hair is covered with a layer of fluffy gold, which makes people want to reach out and touch it a few times.

"Sir, today is Ceylon black tea."

Compared with the fast-paced life of people today, they still prefer a slow-paced lifestyle, either because they have existed for too long or to pass the time.Knowing the habits of men, Claire added a little milk and a cube of sugar after pouring the black tea.Although Mr. Fumeng is not the kind of person who likes sweets, sweet things can always make people feel better.

On the right side of Mr. Floating Dream stood a maid. She put the prepared black tea in his hand, then took a few steps back, waiting for her evaluation.Fumeng picked up the saucer, hooked the ear of the teacup with the other hand, and lowered her head slightly. The taste of tea and fresh milk blended together perfectly. There was a little sweetness on the tip of the tongue, but it was not too greasy.

"It's delicious." Putting down the tea, the man said so.

Crexby's face was calm, and she didn't show any joy because of the man's praise. After all, her expressionless face was her trademark. "After all, I've been with you for a long time." The implication is that if I can't even do this well, then I don't deserve to stay by your side.

There was a gentle and helpless expression on Mr. Floating Dream's face, "It's okay not to be so rigid." Cressby and Mr. Floating Dream bypassed this topic.Taking two steps forward, she saw some manuscripts placed in front of the man. After catching some words, she tilted her head.

"Sir, are you finishing this story?" Although I was writing this story before, it is obvious that it is not easy to find the original feeling because too much time has passed.Therefore, I wrote it before and then discarded it. After repeated several times, I finally wrote something that satisfied the man.

Looking at the manuscript paper with words written on it, Fumeng lowered her eyes and smiled lowly, "It seems that it will be a little difficult to complete." The written plot was overturned again, and then repeated.Crexby blinked, "After all, it's been a long time."

The man pressed his shoulder, "Yes. So don't worry, if it can be completed, it will be completed smoothly."

【…

The older a person is, the more he likes to recall the past, like a bear holding a candy jar. At that time, he was reluctant to eat it. After a long time, when he went to eat it again, he found that it had deteriorated, and only occasionally could he taste the original sweetness. .

Although I haven't reached the age of an old woman who is dozens of years old, it has been a long time compared to the past.

"Ala, are you writing your memoir again?" The woman's voice came from the side, and at the same time, there was a strong aroma from the tip of the nose, like flowers, and like fine wine, making people slightly intoxicated.I didn't raise my head, if that person sees it, they will definitely reprimand me for being disrespectful, but now I'm in my room, there are only two of us, so naturally I won't be polite to someone who comes uninvited.

Even if this guy is my master, even if she is beautiful and attractive, she can even make women's hearts flutter.But so what?

I waved my hand perfunctorily, "You're blocking me, go and sit on the side." I heard her moaning and reluctance, as if she was coquettish and complaining.If it was someone else, he must have gone up to comfort her.But this has nothing to do with me. I am on vacation, and my time is very rare for attendants, so naturally I can't waste it.

So I took my pen and continued writing.

I don't know if after many years or even hundreds of years, someone will read these things I wrote and use them as historical materials for research?Although the probability is very, very small, it is not impossible.Human beings always think about things after death when they are alive, and then they die when they die.Speaking of which, humans are really a strange race.

But compared to this matter, it is more important to think about how to keep this notebook well.After all, the above are all lies and heresy, if those old-fashioned know it, something will happen again.In that case, no matter how many lives I have, it won't be enough to die, and it may even implicate the family.Although I don't care about this kind of thing, if I let the family members know, they will definitely regard me as a disaster, and even record it in future historical materials.

His back was suddenly hit by something, and the pen in his hand was instantly tilted, leaving a suffocating mark.Simply out of sight, I closed my notebook and turned around.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, with helplessness and resignation in my eyes.I, I have been tortured by this witch and resigned to my fate.

The woman on the bed still looked noble and beautiful. If it wasn't for a tiger puppet lying on the ground, I would really feel that nothing happened.

The expression on her face finally changed, as if the moon in the sky had fallen and turned into a flower within reach. "Is it important that I don't have that broken notebook?" I picked up the puppet and patted the dust that didn't exist on it, "Don't throw it away."

She raised her head and patted the empty space in front of her.She was an uninvited guy who took over my bed and turned against me.

I sighed softly, walked over, and looked down at her, "What's the matter?" She suddenly stretched out her hand, pulled me over, and was hugged by her. I looked at the neck in front of me, slender Slender, there is no place that is not beautiful.

"Why don't you like me?" Her tone was extremely aggrieved, it was hard to imagine that she looked so noble and glamorous in front of others.

Who would have imagined that the relationship between us had faded into mist, and at some point, it became what it is now.

I patted her arm holding me, "Why don't I like you. Of course I like you." I was talking nonsense with my eyes open. I am different from ordinary people not only because the monk said that I was born with a Buddha heart, but also It's because I have very little perception of emotions, almost none, but usually I hide them well, and others think that I am only weak because of my natural Buddha heart.

"You're lying." Her tone was quite firm, and she leaned closer to my face.I closed my eyes, a little too lazy to talk to her.Obviously, getting along with each other was as light as water before, but what is going on in this situation now?

She doesn't seem to care, she just wants to talk to someone, the only one who can make her take off her noble appearance is probably me.Of course, I am not so arrogant and arrogant, thinking that it is up to me.

I'm just an ordinary person, and I'll always be ordinary.Maybe one day, the people above will be gracious and allow a group of attendants to leave the palace, and I will be among those people.But no matter what it is, it is an ordinary life that cannot be more ordinary.

"You will worry the maid if you sneak out." I wanted to persuade her to go back. It can be said that she is the only person who has made me feel helpless and compromised in all these years.She suddenly tightened her arms, and the fragrance from her body rushed to her face and went straight into her nose.

The smell didn't float on the surface, it wasn't like incense or something like that, but permeated through the flesh, skin, and even bones.

"Well......"

I struggled a few times, "Let go." She didn't let go, but let go, and put a little distance away from me, although it wasn't a particularly large distance, but I was satisfied.

"You wayward guy." I half-closed my eyes, and suddenly felt sleepy. I patted her arm, and said a little listlessly: "I'm a little sleepy, don't disturb me." The darkness gradually came towards me, and I held on With the last trace of energy, his mouth seemed to be complaining.

"I... rarely take... leave..."

It seemed that someone was chuckling, and then the world was quiet.

...]

After he stopped writing, Mr. Fu Meng tidied up the written part, and the tea in hand was still kept at a suitable temperature for drinking.Picking up the teacup and drinking tea, the man suddenly opened his eyes wide.He looked at the liquid in the teacup, suddenly laughed and shook his head.

"It's really unexpected to replace tea with fruit milk." But Mr. Floating Dream didn't blame Claire at all, instead he drank all the fruit milk.

"I will remember to drink less coffee and tea."

After saying this sentence, nothing happened. It seemed a bit embarrassing to talk to himself like this, but Floating Dream knew that Crexby heard it.

[No に near い.

Almost nothing. 】

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The author has something to say:

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The situation gradually became strange...

感谢在2020-07-0221:40:11~2020-07-0421:29:26期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angel of irrigation nutrient solution: 10 bottles of Anhuan;

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!