Angela R Billips
Bio
Reading is the best learning
Stories (48/0)
Unforgettable Teacher's Grace
That September golden autumn, I just turned 6 years old, with ignorance began my elementary school career ...... On the first day of elementary school, I met the first language teacher in my life - Ms. Zhang. She was as young as my sister and looked like a recent college graduate. She was fair-skinned, with a big pair of glasses on her smiling face, and behind her glasses were a pair of big, dark eyes, gazing like a rippling black sea, flowing like stars flying away in the night sky. At that time, she looked kindly at us children who had just stepped into the school and answered our childish questions gently and patiently. I looked at her sweet smiling face, my heart warmed up, and I also had another kind of expectation for elementary school life ......
By Angela R Billips2 years ago in Fiction
The piece of green in the heart
To the courtyard, go to the bird cage before I opened the door, the pachyderm stood at the cage door sticking out its head, head swaying from side to side to observe, and then issued a series of chirps flapping wings flying down on my shoulders. The bird rubs its beak on my hair, emits a small chirp in its throat, moves its claws back and forth on my shoulder, nips, and tears at my collar with its beak, nips, and tears at my sleeve, and, curious, stretches its neck and raises its head sideways to observe my nostrils. Sometimes, without warning, it nips at my lips with its beak, and when I startle it, it lets out a gleeful cry and flies up the courtyard wall, ignoring me. He landed on the fence and ran back and forth. Looking at me. Looking at the sky. Standing on the wall, he leisurely picks his feathers with his beak, then rubs his beak against the wall from side to side, rubs his feathers, and makes a quacking sound.
By Angela R Billips2 years ago in Fiction
The city is evicting
No matter for what era, the city is always a symbol of civilization and advancement. It is the frontier of the direction of development of that era, also the warehouse of material aggregation, but also the dense population of large villages.
By Angela R Billips2 years ago in Fiction
In my dreams, there is a city!
Always in my dreams, I wish to live in that city. Just like a farmer who is used to living in the countryside, longing for tall buildings, longing for all kinds of cars in either wide or narrow streets running like water, longing to stand on a high loft with a spire, enjoying the autumn moon, wide as a bat's sleeve filled with breeze.
By Angela R Billips2 years ago in Fiction
A grain of sand walking through the ginger manor
I am a grain of sand blown from Siberia, I fell with a lot of gravel, on a high loess slope. One day, when I woke up, I found that the wind had stopped, the earth was calm again, and I had become an insignificant grain of sand on the top of the high slope. Looking around, in the vast expanse of mountains, I saw a mansion - Jiang's Manor. It is not often that a mansion can stand on the fluffy sandy soil. I know that in this area, only the kiln can withstand the heavy weight of our fellow gravel, but the Jiang manor will be built into a fortress-style kiln, which is very surprising to me. Suddenly a gust of wind blew, and I was pushed and shoved by other sand back into the air. After a few spins, I landed with difficulty on the top of the tower of the Jiang manor.
By Angela R Billips2 years ago in Fiction
I had a date with poetry
The first time I saw the cicadas, my mother took me to Changzhou, a beautiful city. The first time I entered Changzhou, my God, the street lamp carved dinosaurs, grass "standing" dinosaurs, even the theater wall also painted dinosaurs, really worthy of the "Dragon City" ah! But I didn't come here for tourism, but to participate in the "3rd Children's Poetry in the Heart of the Children's Poetry Society Outstanding Works Singing".
By Angela R Billips2 years ago in Fiction
Childhood Suite
Childhood, like a song, sings in our most innocent life. Happy "werewolf killing" "Hurry up! The people who play werewolf killing game gather!" With a passionate "rallying cry", a group of us "wolves" swarmed to the classroom to have a good time!
By Angela R Billips2 years ago in Fiction
Shallow drunk in the spring breeze
In the young March, the light wind with the color of peach blossoms slowly blowing over, blowing over, let the world dodge, let everything dodge, the world's heartbeat accelerated, the heartbeat of everything accelerated, the dormant winter earth slowly awakened, sleepy dreams gradually be awakened, awake happy suddenly be ignited. The once withered and weary heart added a hundredfold ambition, everything willingly give everything to the spring doodle, painted red on red, painted green the green, leaning on the shoulders of spring, not afraid to lose the claim. I also simply delivered myself to the spring breeze punctuation, the sea of ripples has been running forward, touching the other side of the hope, so I and everything along with the spring has a vigorous vitality.
By Angela R Billips2 years ago in Fiction