when I moved to a city Three years later, I moved to a city with my parents. It smelled strange. However, I couldn’t speak it out. Pedestrianes were zigzagging through the human traffic, jostling others. A high-heeled young lady ignored my big smile, wedging herself into the elevator. Residents were living in a “bird cage” where you had no idea who was your neighbor or friend. People were more like ghosts lingering on the street in the morning and snails in the evening. Almost everyone seemed in a floating island, they wanted to yell but their voices were fading away in air. Every one is an inaccessible island in a more connected cyberspace. I was lost.

some description about my childhood When I was 7 years old, I used to live in a quiet village with my grandparents. I still remember neighbors shared peaches with other other, all kids gathered secretly in a small garden and my puppy “creamy” run against the sunset. Our door was open for every one. As Tao Yuanming, a high-calire poet in estern Jin Dynasty once wrote in The story of the peach garde: “The road intersected across with each other and the fishingman even could hear the sounds of dogs’ barking and the chicken’s singing.” At that time, every man was a piece of the continent, a part of the main.

I am poor at telling a story “Darling, breakfast!” My grandma gave me a soft kiss when warm beams creeped up to my pillow. The sweet oat mikly porridge waked me up. “Nanny, do you have the time? ”I cultched her arm. “Nope, I am not gonna tell you, my sweetie” she wore her old-fashined glasses. Yes, you’re right. This old lady was my grandma.