Story creation with fire and light

① Time junior high school story composition

Those forgotten in memory gradually settle down and become quiet and beautiful patterns in our hearts. However, when something really touches those memories, they will fly away like dust, and then the warm picture will come back to my eyes. There will be waves of sadness about passing away in our hearts, which will last for a long time.

When I read the article "Time flies like water", I really remembered my primary school days. Although the author's experience is different from mine, her article is the feeling caused by returning to the high school campus, but the feeling of missing her alma mater, her old teachers and classmates and her school time there is the same.

I seem to hear the laughter of my old classmates again. I close my eyes and imagine myself sitting in that familiar classroom, surrounded by you, him, her and them. I hear you calling my name, a distant voice, and there is a vague tremor in my memory. I heard the sound of his basketball landing, and I think I can hear the sound of his running footsteps dripping with sweat. I heard her laugh, and the silvery sound got into my ears. I heard them doing their homework quietly, and the sound of rustling spread in the air like still notes. I heard her talking on the podium about the math problem that made most people sleepy. I heard him strike the table when he was angry. I heard the wind whistling through the treetops. I heard the music of eye exercises playing on the old school radio. ……

I heard you. How can I see you again? Sadness spread quietly, and I remembered the days when I was with you.

Sometimes it takes a long time to conceive a sentence, and then I look at the words I spent a lot of time writing, and I am satisfied and ecstatic. Sometimes we spend little time thinking about the past, and then we recall the past time with sadness.

If time is really like water, then please flow slowly and then slowly. If time can go back, I hope to go back to the day we met. The story of time begins again. In the story, there are moments when we are lost.

② The story composition of time

I'm on the bridge.

You are under the starlight.

I am on the roof.

You are behind a distant mountain.

I am downstairs.

You are in the autumn wind

I'm at the water's edge

You are in the waves.

You are raindrops

Snuggle up in my hands.

You are an angel.

Spread your wings in my dream

You are a string of smiles over the years.

Growing up in my tired heart

You are a warm flower.

Diffuse in my hazy eyes

When I'm awake

You are in the past.

When I'm lonely

You are in the song.

When I am writing at my desk

You are black and white.

(of vivid characters in a picture or a novel) seems to be vividly portrayed.

When I wander around

You are the one in the blurred night sky.

A familiar sigh

Stupid stare.

I squinted at the window.

When you look up,

You are in the bright moonlight again.

I just don't know

Guanghanshuxia

Was it planted?

Acacia in full bloom forever

You are an ethereal boat after all.

Dressed in white

Stay away gloomily

But have you ever seen the coast?

Reluctantly say goodbye

Grass separation

Have you heard of it?

Someone is crying silently for you.

When I wake up tomorrow,

Maybe we've forgotten.

The time we spent together.

The Story of Time

③ The story composition of time

The Story of Time

The floating clouds on the horizon, floating on the clouds at lightning speed, try to attract the attention of every flower and grass with their dazzling light-the yearning for childhood.

When I was a child, I always liked to hold a sweet lollipop in my left hand, pull up a corner of my skirt in my right hand, sway my body in the envious and yearning eyes of my friends, and listen to the ecstatic voices of my friends. However, a little sister next door proudly took out her beautiful bow from the closet, so she was surrounded by admiration and I heard her crying. I can only go home alone with the doll in my arms, muttering in her ear: "Only you know me best, I am the most beautiful and beautiful princess …" In this way, I spent my childhood troubles in narcissism and self-comfort.

The wind and clouds have gone, the wipers have withered, and clouds, thunder, the moon, stars and the majestic sky are all spreading their grand plans in my persistent and persistent handprints-my childhood dreams.

When I was a teenager, I always appreciated my personality and mood. In my clenched hand, I wrote a mixture of sweat and tears. The tiger's mouth firmly grasped the pen that had been stripped of paint, as if carrying the soul of the nation. The grandeur and fighting spirit in the brow added a great integrity to Pangu's creation. However, the struggle always exists! I am desperately competing to surpass all my opponents, but I obviously feel tired and smell shortness of breath and inadequacy. Hearing the criticism and ridicule of others, I suddenly felt powerless, as if I lost my steady pace, light body and wonderful blood flow for an instant and fell into a bottomless hesitation. I was looking for myself, but when I landed, I saw my heart clearly. I will redouble my efforts and pay. When the wings fall off, pick up the scattered feathers again, lift the dancing face and smile at the successful flowers and applause. So, I think, when I was a teenager, I used self-encouragement to relieve my troubles.

The colorful autumn of the British people is as gorgeous as the gloomy red clouds, which proves that my Buddha smiles clearly. Find a piece of bluestone and watch the vicissitudes of life ... wandering as an adult. As an adult, the more tired the heart is, the more eager it is to be moist and soft. To be precise, this is my youth. Right hand holding left hand, lingering in my heart, my heart just wants to be imprisoned in this wanton yearning forever. However, there is no eternal commitment. The sky is full of green glaze, so let it be, but also learn to leave each other and go their separate ways. When I turned around, I smiled naturally and sincerely. Gradually, in my youth, I turned around and turned around a few times, writing out my troubles and putting them aside.

Put on a pot of wine, drink, shake your head and face the day.

(4) Take the story of time as the topic of composition 800.

The time that used to be, is now long gone. Remember? That year? A boy gently picked you up with his strong arms and kissed your forehead deeply. A girl lay in the hospital bed in front of him, leaving tears of joy. Your appearance completely broke their quiet little days. From then on, they began to grow up. You made them grow up. Every day, their happiest thing is to learn you an interesting bedtime story, a nursery rhyme that suits you. Then teach you, make you laugh, think about your future and love, it won't last long. The most beautiful love is because of you, even if the throb of that year is gone, they will get closer, because that is affection and responsibility. Year after year, you have learned the two most beautiful terms in the world: father and mother. That year, you just learned to crawl. They recorded it excitedly with their cameras. That year, you learned to walk and even run happily, thinking that you no longer need their arms. That year, they walked into the park again, holding it tightly in their hands. Xiao you, remember he asked you, what do you want to be when you grow up? Astronaut? Scientists? Go to Tsinghua? Go to Peking University? Then I held you in my arms with a smile and said something like this. You must be promising when you grow up. Really, one day, did you say you would go to school by yourself? Does it mean that one day, you will sleep by yourself? Did you ever tell her to stop nagging? Did you say one day that you wanted the same thing as that child? Did you tell him one day that my business is none of your business? Is it true that one day, you never do your homework? Is it true that one day, you think they think too much about Tsinghua Peking University? Do you think you will be an adult one day? Did you have a big fight with them one day? Did you find out who you like one day? Was it that day that you made a group of friends you thought were lifelong friends? Really, one day, when they prepared a birthday menu for you, did you say you would spend it with your classmates? Have you ever hated them and even wanted to leave this house one day? Is it true that one day, you said that the school was in class and you went to the Internet cafe? Did you find yourself in love with the Internet one day? Still saving money to go to the internet cafe? Flush the equipment? Did you learn to smoke and drink one day? It's not because I'm good, but because I'm bravado for a while and I can't let it go anymore. Is it that one day, you drank too much outside and rummaged through your mobile phone, but there was no number to dial? Is it true that one day, you want to find a job outside, but you find life so painful and meaningful? Do they provide delicious food when you are hungry? Did they tuck you in when you were cold? Do they wipe away your tears when you cry? Did they show you the way when you were confused? Do they laugh when you are happy? Did they accompany you to the hospital when you were sick? Did they ignite your hope when you were desperate? When you grow up, do you feel warm when they hug you? They are, they are, they are, you are, and you are? But when you look back, time, streamer, backlight, those once forever have become forever. And that group of people, those heartless silly children who grew up with you ~ the partners who walked side by side, all parted after toasting and blessing.

⑤ The story composition of Time is 600 words.

Blood-stained armor I shed tears to kill the enemy, the city was full of chrysanthemums, the palace was dusty, and life and death were scarred.

"Jing Ke, please wait a moment." The prince said: This handful of hometown soil represents your heart, where?

A sword represents your people, and you will always be a warrior of our country. Please. "

The wind blows in Shui Han, and a strong man will never return to the west.

Blood dyed the sword red, and Jing Ke's blood dyed the prince's sword red and opened the front.

This is the change of the country and the change of the sword.

A spit is half a prosperous Tang dynasty. Li Taibai's lofty aspirations and lofty sentiments are all in his poems and in his country.

The representative of Tang poetry is Li Bai, and Li Bai is the representative of the prosperous Tang Dynasty, full of momentum.

Chang' an fell, the country was broken, and only the mountains and rivers remained; Spring has come, and the sparsely populated Chang' an city is densely forested. This sentence came from Du Fu's heart, and how much ambition he could achieve in the late Tang Dynasty. Alas, in the end, he gave birth to his son early, shook his hut in the autumn wind and fell down at once.

This is the change of the country and the change of poetry.

West wind shutter, she is thinner than yellow flowers. She has been wandering all her life. She was originally a loving couple, and her husband died in battle. She can only sing the words "frown, but take it to heart"

Lying in the dead of night, listening to the wind and rain, Tiema Glacier dreamed of a land trip, dedicated to the country, and wanted to fight and kill the enemy when he was old. What a fearless gentleman, it's a pity that he can only dream. ......

This is a change of country and sentiment.

In the process of change, the search for swords, poems and feelings for the country are still changing, alas. ......

Keywords: story time story time story) time