The Record Of Barton’s Fantastical Events

On Saturday morning, [Liszt Street], as usual, ushered in the enthusiasm of the rest of the citizens. August 1? Chinese ■ English? ● www.ww.81ｚw.com? They start from [Liszt Back Street], starting with a nice brunch, and take a satisfying day trip from [Liszt Street] .

The bus from the Western District to the Northern District was mixed between luxury limousines, along the Charles River, and entered the Northern District. After passing [Fenway Stadium] in [Back Bay], head towards Liszt.

Like many citizens who entered [Liszt Street] by bus, a young man in his early twenties appeared to sit on his seat. He bent over and bowed his head, and a thin gray long-sleeved hood jacket was attached to him It seems to be a strong body that exercises regularly, and a soft hood covers the head.

People can't see his expression, but look at his arms on his knees, the palms that are holding each other, and the broad shoulders that tremble slightly. It seemed that the young man was nervous. The legs in jeans occasionally touched the paper bag under him to prevent the shaking bus from letting the contents fall out.

His dress is not in the right season when it has entered the summer. There is a slight heat in his exposed neck, and sweat beads of fine smile ooze on the skin of his neck.

"Are you all right?" The woman sitting on the side of the young man pulled her child, and pressed on the young man's shoulder with concern.

The young man turned his head and smiled slightly, showing neat white teeth. "Thank you, I'm fine." Blue eyes showed sincere gratitude.

The skin on the woman ’s fingers was not very smooth. She caressed the young man ’s shoulder with concern and thought for a moment, then took a jar of water from her handbag. “You should make up some water, it ’s hot now.”

"Thank you." The young man did not refuse. He smiled and took the water from the other person's rough hands. He turned the bottle cap open and raised his head. The protruding throat rolled up and down.

It was indeed a lot more comfortable. The young man gratefully returned the half of the jug to the woman, smiling apologetically. The woman didn't mind smiling, and continued to pull her child, waiting for the bus to reach its destination.

The young man lowered his head again, and he could feel that he was surrounded by kind people.

These people who travel from the Western District to the Northern District on the weekend still need to take the bus as a means of transportation, which has already explained which class they are in the Western District.

The bus has not yet reached the terminal, but for the people on the bus, they have reached their destination. ● Eight ▼ One Chinese ?? www.8１zw.com ▲ People flowed out when the back door opened. The young people waited patiently at the end, lifted their own paper bags, and got out of the car after the crowd.

The sun at nine o'clock is beautiful. The young man narrowed his eyes and looked at the sky, showing a complex smile.

His fingers squeezed the paper bag, and it was not like the flow of people. He was immediately attracted by the things in the shop windows on both sides of the street and spread out. His purpose seemed very clear. He went on [Liszt Street] until he reached the middle of the street.

[Liszt Street] does not allow vehicles to enter, so there is a crossing ten times in the middle section, which is connected to [Liszt Back Street]. The young man was standing at the intersection with the largest flow of people. He happened to catch up with those who had brunch in the back street.

Well-dressed men and women passed by him, and occasionally someone they knew stopped in surprise, "Hi! Blake! I heard you are back!"

The young man took a deep breath and nodded with a smile.

"How is the university?" The other party seemed to have a chat, "I heard that you have completed your bachelor's degree and are applying for research."

Blake nodded, he didn't know how to end such a conversation.

Fortunately, the other party seemed to realize his uncomfortableness, waved his hand with a smile, "Say hello to Mr. Stone (Blake's surname) and his wife for me."

Blake breathed a sigh of relief and nodded again, watching the acquaintances who had left pursing his lips. He knew that since he had already decided, he would definitely do it.

The flow of people is still so much, they said that they walked towards the things they liked with a smile, relaxed and burdenless. This is [Liszt Street]. If there is nothing you want to have, you will not come here.

However, the flow of people attracted them in the same way.

People's eyes gradually widened, they temporarily put down what they wanted to buy, and looked at the young man standing at the intersection.

Blake lowered his hood and revealed a messy golden head. His hand unzipped his zipper, revealing his strong chest, and then in the eyes of everyone puzzled, he pushed open the coat hanging on his shoulder.

not end yet.

Blake's hands fiddled with his waist, the buttons of his jeans were untied, he bent down, untied his laces, and took off his shoes awkwardly. Eight ?? ● One ▼ Chinese website www.81zw.com?

Someone has covered their mouths, and those who know this Master Stone family are nervously pulling around the people, with their mouths uncertain, seeming to say, ‘what is the case? ! ’

Blake, who had only one ** in his body, looked at the crowd. He pursed his mouth, his chest undulated with tension and fast, and the muscles full of lines jittered slightly in the sun. His hands were uncomfortably placed on his side, and even his own brain seemed blank, forgetting what to do next.

If this is just a night show on pay TV, it should be a good moment for some women or a few men. But now, it is daytime. No one knows what was born! The owner of the shop already silently picked up the phone.

Blake stooped, his arms reflected in the sunlight confusingly stretched into the paper bag.

A piece of cardboard was taken out, and Black moved the cardboard stiffly in front of him. He also held a marker on his hand.

‘What is your real hell, written on me. ’

Inexplicably, time seems to be still for a moment.

Zac raised his hand, raised his sunglasses, squinted, and looked at the young man. He pulled Alice's shoulder, "Let's write."

"Hey!" Lola pulled Alice, who was stepped forward, in a panic. "Don't go." The girl lowered her voice, and she seemed to be scared, "Then, that is Mr. Stone's grandson ... "

Zac raised his eyebrows, it doesn't matter. He took Alice in dilemma, walked to the young man, nodded with a smile, and extended his hand.

Blake stayed for a while, and after a long time, he handed out the pen.

Zac opened the pen lid with a smile, the black marker pen point under Blake's collarbone, Zac chose the most convenient place, the arm moved slightly, `` alone ''.

Blake's head was slightly lowered, and he looked at the very decent gentleman in front of him and wrote a few words, smiling gratefully at him.

Zac nodded and said with a smile, "True hell, I like your words." Then, handed the pen to Alice.

The Banshee's eyes, like an ordinary girl, dodged the young man's body in front of her, and she looked at Zac with a panic expression. Zac smiled encouragingly.

Alice took a few deep breaths, and she held out her hand. At her height, just under Blake ’s left chest, the Banshee wrote a few words, ‘Ca n’t Live Anymore’.

"Hi." Lola, pulled by Louise, twitched her head and greeted the neighboring brother awkwardly.

After Alice finished writing, she didn't seem to know what to do. Louise looked at what Zac wrote and smiled and took the pen in Alice's hand, 'Lost what you have now.'

Zac smiled and wrapped around Louise's head and kissed gently. The vampire looked sideways and smiled at the nervous Blake, ‘thank you. ’

Blake seemed to relax a little and nodded to Zac with a smile.

Louise shook her pen in front of Lola.

Lola hesitated to take the pen and pointed to Blake's arm. "Hand!"

Blake smiled, seeming to relax completely and stretched out his arm. Lola took the palm of this very familiar brother and thought for a long time before writing, "Grow up."

"If you are caught in trouble, don't count me!" Lola added.

Blake shook his head with a smile, "No."

Lola Barton seemed to have a good start.

Those who stood by the road and couldn't believe everything in front of them seemed to have an example. Especially those who knew Lola and Blake, they were still nervous, but slowly approached. He didn't know whether he praised Blake's boldness or his meaning.

But they took the pen from the people around them, and temporarily put aside their thoughts on Blake, and began to think about what should be left on this young skin.

Everyone who finished writing would get a smile from Blake.

Wrong, it should be the other way around, when people write that sentence with relief, they will give Blake a smile.

"No one on the pillow when I wake up."

‘The company cannot sustain it’.

‘Mother ’s illness is more serious’.

‘Xx no longer cares about me’.

...

The crowd is increasing.

It seems that before writing your own words, reading other people's 'hell' has become one of the affairs of those who took the pen.

They draw circles on some words, and they are marked with ‘+1’.

‘My children do n’t love me’.

‘I have no time to spend with my family’.

'kicked out'.

‘No bridesmaids’.

...

Someone began to smile at the last person in thought when he took the pen, "No, you can go through it."

"Thank you."

After a brief hug, the new handwriting was left on Blake's skin.

‘Not recognized by family’.

'no friend'.

'graduation'.

‘Disappoint xx’.

Blake raised his leg, his skin covered with notes. But the person who took over the pen did not care that he needed to squat down on the ground to write his ‘hell’.

They handed the pen to the next person and patted Blake on the shoulder.

...

The surrounding crowd was turned away by people wearing police uniforms, and this 'performance art' also came to an end.

When Blake was taken away, in the sighs of people, the flow of people quickly washed everything out here.

[Liszt Street] on Saturday resumed what it should be.