Woman In Irish Linen Shirt

In order to see Capulet’s daughter, Romeo turned over the orchard at night.

With the temperature of the shirt that had just been roasted, I took the night ride and shuttled to Miss Pande's house.

As usual, the administrator asked me to register, then took me to the elevator, and swiped the access card for me. The master standing on the spire tonight is just waiting...

And I don’t know if I can come and go freely.

The gossip that I heard at a gathering of old folks during the day was like a profile of Miss Pan De from the outside, and it seemed like something I hadn't seen before belonged to her. On the way here, I also tried to do my homework, but the Q&A on Quora, which is difficult to distinguish between true and false, and the introduction of proper nouns in the wiki, still appear to be textualized and academic, and thus become a kind of label, a thin one. The concept of "I" makes me not feel what it is that still plagues the social reality of Indians.

Perhaps the word "troubled" comes with the prejudice of outsiders.

Of course I still know what the caste is-but it is difficult for me to say with certainty what I really know. The subject of cultivation is so popular, but a passerby in the country can tell which three "Sanqing" belong to and the proportions. Still very low.

I have never set foot in India. A copy of "The God of Micro Things", the Indians from the UK and Singapore who have been in contact overseas for so many years, or the Indians who have embraced the United States from accent to culture, constitute all my stereotypes.

I think that is India. I think I probably know what "India" is—just like I think I know her.

She is about the same as me, wandering on the earth, neither east nor west, east and west, her stomach is the stomach of her hometown, and she cannot go back to her homeland.

I am so self-righteous.

The door was hidden. Miss Pan De Xu left the door for me when the administrator reported it. I walked in by myself, changed my shoes, and my heart beat a bit fast.

There was a very faint scent of sandalwood in the air. Miss Pan De was in front of the window. Most of the lines on her shoulders escaped from the concealment of the racer vest. Her legs stretched very straight, parallel to the ground, and gave me a faint look. Did not speak.

I am waiting at the corner. Her yoga is not over yet, and the floor lamp on the side of the book wall gives her a thin layer of light. Every time she finishes dancing, her mental state is different, but tonight she is more dazzling than usual. I don't know whether it is light or my illusion.

If it is light, what kind of light is it?

Miss Pan De, who is shining today, seems to be the afterglow of money even at the edge of the halo.

I imagined my opening statement: I will stand here later, waiting for her to come, and then deliberately sniffing her. I even thought about the lines, and said that she smells very rich today.

Miss Pande ended very quickly.

In fact, I didn’t find out for the first time that even when I did yoga, I would subconsciously close together, but her ending action was a typical quadriceps stretch. I only realized it later when she walked towards me--

In the end, we met before her red dress.

My body ran away.

Outside the spotlight, Miss Pan De was half in the light and half in the shadows. As a result, her silhouette is more three-dimensional, but as the light and shadow change, it turns out that only her style and existence are added. Those conspired in the dark, those full of offensive things, are completely insulated from her at this moment.

Her eyes are so bright and bright, as if there is a fire in life.

The sandalwood is mixed with Miss Pan De's perfume. We did not know when we hugged together.

Wow, I miss her so much.

She separated from me a little bit, with inexplicable tenderness in her eyes, looked at each other for a moment, and then said, "Don't you want to introduce what you brought here?"

"Oh." I held the bouquet in front of me. "This is from Katya-Rudra's daughter."

Miss Pan De looked at the bouquet and nodded slowly: "It looks like it was carefully matched."

"Oh." I replied vaguely, and bumped into her sight, and was stunned, "What are you thinking about, she's only thirteen years old!"

Miss Pan De laughed, noncommittal: "Okay."

My heart is hairy: "Can't I be welcomed by the children?"

"I'm just thinking," she didn't answer at all, "Are you going to bring the flowers back."

It should have been taken home. But since she asked that, I felt embarrassed and said, "Would you like to let it stay in your vase? I think the white rose at the door should also be changed."

She had that kind of unspeakable smile again, staring at me, for a long time she spread her hand in front of me, and beckoned with her finger. Turning around with a bouquet mixed with several wild flowers, Miss Pan De went to the hallway and said as she walked: "I miss you too."

The roots of my ears became hot all at once.

She changed the flowers skillfully. When changing the water, she picked up the tools hanging on the wall next to her and washed the inner wall of the vase. The flowers Katya gave me were picked from the yard. The stem length is limited, which makes it difficult to match this vase. Miss Pan De left a few sick roses and put the bouquets in smoothly.

I was a little surprised: "I thought these things were all part-time workers doing it for you."

"The cleaners only come once a week. Mine takes three days to change. They can't help." She took the shirt from the coat rack and put it on her shoulders, sat down next to me, and lay back. , And farther away from me.

The main light was turned on when she came over, and the beautiful lines of Miss Pande's arm leaning on the sofa were clearly visible. I followed, I knew I was down again: but she couldn't find the slightest teasing.

Miss Pan De looked at me just as I looked at her.

"I made an appointment on Friday, I'm sorry." She spoke slowly, seeming to hesitate, and wanted to give me a promise to make up, "Well...you know--"

"I can understand." I touched the back of her hand comfortingly. "Anyway, I saw you today, didn't I?"

She raised her eyebrows helplessly, and sighed softly, "Is there anything I can do? I want to make up."

The red dress on the opposite side of the sofa has almost become a luminous body under the combination of light and heat. I looked over inadvertently, thought for a moment, and whispered: "Can I watch you dance?"

"Well," Miss Pande looked a little surprised, "I haven't performed in a long time, and I have no plans to go on stage in the future."

I smiled and shook my head: "I mean normal practice."

She looked back at me, her eyes stopped miraculously for a while, and then returned to flow. No, it seems to be more than that, smoother than smooth: is light flowing in her eyes? I can't tell.

But what is Qiubo, since today, my understanding has been even deeper.

"It might be a bit boring." Miss Pande explained, "I'm not sure if we can talk, you know, I literally practice for a whole day. Are you sure you want to spend a whole week on this kind of thing? Come on?"

"I'm willing." I laughed unconsciously, "I will be free next Sunday, by the way."

She squinted her eyes: "Seriously?"

Ah, that was the weekend before her birthday. I hesitated: "Are there a party?"

Miss Pan De shook her head: "It's not like that. Okay, then I will ask the owner of the dance classroom, Yao, are you sure you didn't have a job that day?"

I was stunned, and nodded subconsciously: "I will turn my hand off when the time comes."

She laughed: "It's not necessary."

After speaking, Miss Pan De really took out the phone. Everything is going well. I actually wanted to watch her dance a long time ago, but this request has always been embarrassing to say: after all, it was her impenetrable itinerary, and how should she introduce me? Thinking of this, I retreat.

Well, you can wait for the beach appointment. The dance classroom sounds more interesting.

She sent several messages in a row, and the content should be very brief, but when she was the last person, she typed for a long time. I felt that I had waited for at least two or three minutes, and her hands weren't always typing. After a while, I stopped for a while, obviously speaking.

I glanced at her, and resisted not asking. After another minute or two, her message was finally over-Miss Pande just squeezed the phone into my hand.

I don't know, so I raised my head and just listened to her say: "Look for yourself."

The screen showed a long string of things... which looked like Portuguese but I didn't know a word.

The other party’s nickname is in Russian. I turned it up and glanced at the person’s head very quickly. It was so dark that I couldn’t see anything. I returned the phone to her: "I don't understand. Is this another written word in Russian?"

Miss Pan De was obviously dissatisfied with this guess, folded her arms and squinted at me.

I immediately understood. Are the letters of the Polish language.

I took a breath, felt that I was reasonable, and could not find the confidence, and finally whispered: "I haven't seen it before..."

The opposite person returned quickly. Miss Pan De glanced at me, copied and pasted, read aloud, all in one go. I couldn't understand this magical operation at all, but from Siri's mechanical sound, I heard that the opposite was in Russian.

It might be Russian. After all, I can only use words such as "Dawali" and "Braghi" that are left in Chinese.

Compared with the actual language, Miss Pan De's reaction was more meaningful. As she listened, she looked at me, her smile getting deeper and deeper, and she didn't know what she was having fun. After hearing the news, Miss Pan De responded briefly and then turned off the screen.

In her eyes, she was playing hide-and-seek: "So you are not good at everything. At least today we know that you don't speak any Slavic languages."

I originally wanted to put on a cold face to let her realize her mistakes, but when I spoke, seeing her proud look, the coldness had melted unintentionally, and I was only left to spoil me: "You want to laugh at me with this kind of thing. ?"

"Of course not." She shook her head, "I just want a small revenge."

"For what?"

"What would you think if I used Chinese Characters as Kanji?"

I pursed my lips: "I will think you did it on purpose, and then I will ask if you are Pakistani."

She laughed at once: "You did a great job. I decided to forgive you."

I don't know why she laughed so happily. It's just that my heart seemed to soften suddenly, and she just happened to sink in and became a treasure embedded in it. The corner of my mouth couldn’t help but tick: “So I can go dancing with you next Sunday?”

She nodded.

"I think I will enjoy it."

"Such words will be kept for next week." She stroked my apple muscles, as if stroking my smile.

The shirt hung on the shoulders slid down with this action. Miss Pan De just looked at me and didn't move.

And I turn by static.