Urgent for a beautiful sentence to describe the blue bricks in the alley! ! ! ! Well written. Come on! ! !
There are no flowers or trees in the alley. It was dried up and covered with a thick layer of dust, just like a dry river.
The street lamps in the street flashed yellow and red lightning, like a pair of drunken red eyes, flashing at him. uEqL
One or two listless lights are like the eyes of a sleepy person.
Night arrival, brightly lit, like a sparkling night pearl dotted the town. The small town on a rainy night, dim lights, like countless eyes open and close.
This is a quiet alley that is almost dead. Xiao Rui looked up at the sky. It was blue and the sun was diabolical. He couldn't find the lonely feeling of "walking alone with an oiled paper umbrella" written by Dai Wangshu, so he had to snigger at himself and walked slowly forward.
On both sides of the alley are shabby and quaint moss walls near the civilian courtyard, and some walls are covered with green ivy vines, which seems to make Luoyang sweltering this summer in the narrow shadow.
The alley is dark and the walls are covered with mottled dark green moss, which may be the reason why the house is shorter than other places. The tiles cover the house. Grass covered the tiles again. The smell of swill and feces is everywhere.
The alley is so quiet that you can hardly feel the passage of time. The road is inlaid with square bluestones. Walking on it makes my heart cool. The slate crackled under your feet, so you didn't feel how hot it was.
This alley is hidden in a big old house and squeezed into a narrow piece by high walls. When two fatter people meet, one of them has to hold his breath and put away his stomach. The alley is quiet, yes, very quiet. Profound and lonely is not enough to sum up. These two words are a little cold and can break your heart. Only static, static static, is closer to its temperament. Time is like sediment in water slowly settling here. Not to mention the noise outside the alley, even the sunshine can only float in the air, with white foam.
Alleys are long and short, straight and criss-crossed, and the shape is the same as cobwebs hanging on the eaves. This metaphor often gives me an unspeakable illusion. It seems that all the houses in the alley are spiders, large and small, all black in color, and occasionally a few blue. They lie on the earth, silently sucking the sweet liquid deep in the soil.
Under the dim light, there are no passers-by in a hurry, no friends laughing and laughing. Only silence. A suffocating silence. I know this silence is what I need to calm down. Suddenly I saw several figures standing alone, rubbing my eyes only to find that it was an illusion.