The roof tiles have returned, flocks of birds flying around, nature is so strange, people, landscapes, birds are like a symbiotic thing, when the heavy rice grains bow their heads, from the rocky mountains on the other side of the river, from the vast forest along the mountainside, flocks and flocks of birds come to divide the first rice grains of the season

This season, fat, big-breasted, strong-flying birds swoop down and fly up to the rice fields, bowing their heads.

The peaceful scenery sowed strange sounds in people’s hearts…at my age, the girls were already mature, soft and gentle, leaning their shadows near and far. Only the boys were still naive and innocent, making a laughing stock of the girls.

since the day Mr. Dam gave me the book… oh it’s the same place but when I was little, why didn’t I feel anything when I saw a woman giving birth… but…

Come see the turtledoves at Mr. Dam’s house.

The village road was paved with stones, the wheels were bumpy…I drove slowly…feeling lost…

Suddenly from afar ahead, a bicycle selling wine came out from the alley. On the bicycle was tied a basket with a bamboo tray covered tightly. On the side of the bag was a can of wine. Her butt was so wide that it seemed to tighten into her skin… into her flesh. Her butt was so round and round… a fertile gaze.

Who wants wine, who wants new rice vermicelli soup, who wants grilled meat…

Who wants some wine…some wine

The clear cries from near and far, the tracks of turning wheels, the voice of a woman calling goods along the alley…

Ms. Hong sells wine..

Whatever, it’s up to you…you only sell alcohol..

Miss Hong is often gossiped about, especially by married women who often buy alcohol, strong men who often glance at her… sometimes they also whisper that the other family’s wife warned Miss Hong, a few jealous voices, but in the end Miss Hong is still the one who sells alcohol.

Without the wine seller, where would the men in this village buy wine? The previous wineries… the wine was burnt… mixed with strong chemicals, giving the drunkards headaches… they kept coming back to the wine seller’s shop to buy wine.

Who’s drinking…her voice fades away

Miss Hong is also strange..she is not from here..she lives in a far away village on the other side of the river a few dozen kilometers from my village. In the past, she took the ferry to my village to sell wine. In the evening, at midnight, she took the ferry back.

Her village has a very strange custom of making wine not from rice but from dried cassava, a root that grows abundantly in the forest. I heard that in the south it is called cassava.

From ancient times, there was a time when the long-nosed Westerners brought wine and opium here to sell for profit… the Fonten wine brand, heard somewhere from some opium country… boasted about the wine of the heavenly land… but that wine advertisement was defeated by the British, banana leaf cork, opaque color, bubbling of the village of Co Van.

Drunk, drunk to the point of staggering, woke up without a headache…wine from the village…

In this village there is a very strange custom, only by making wine in the laterite well in the middle of the village will the wine be delicious. The secret is in the yeast, the microorganism that makes the rice ferment.

I heard that after that conference, some engineers from the company came back to the village to research and investigate…

invest… exclusive recipe for making wine… name Quoc Lui delicious dish brought to competitions famous in Asia

The wine seller was destined to get married and move to this village. She brought wine from her hometown to sell. Her life was rich and prosperous. She and her husband had a beautiful child. When she was 26 years old, I don’t know if it was like the curse of the wine god and the wine god. Her husband tasted wine until he was addicted. His liver kept getting bigger and bigger, then he passed away, leaving her with an orphaned child.

Her mother, out of pity for her being a girl, passed on to her the fermentation recipe… the wine she brewed was delicious,… but a woman struggling alone in the middle of the river… bees and cicadas gathered, the spirit of intoxication swayed, rumors came and went… the commune came down several times to check but found nothing.

Because she doesn’t make wine with rice…only with dried cassava…no one said she violated the law

A lonely girl…in the middle of a village of drunken men, burdened with the burden of the country and worrying about her child…her mother kept telling her to go back to the village to do business…but she kept rowing…in her mid-twenties

wine…the wine seller’s cheeks were red…who wants wine…somewhere from the bamboo grove, a few men came out, whispering and teasing…trying a taste, buying some to prolong the time…to watch the wine seller

I just leisurely went to his house from Dam to watch birds…to listen to him tell stories about his life.

His house has two gates…the front gate opens onto the street.

The small gate behind the field opens along the bank to a green field, on this side are two lush bamboo bushes…a few pomelo trees laden with fruit, golden sunlight…

several bird cages he hung on tree branches

The gate opened..the sound of doves crowing loudly…

serenity…peace, so dear

the dove calls its friend..i snap my fingers to make him nod

cuckoo…cuckoo…stretch neck…ruffled feathers…I keep remembering the day he told me my dick nodded like a rooster

Gently step into the row of houses behind… Mr. Dam’s house is very big, in front of his shop, Mr. Dam has already closed the door.

Oh, there’s the wine cart leaning against the side. Look through the crack in the back door…where the man put many bags and packs of traditional medicine…on the wooden bench…oh…the beating of his heart was rising.

my eyes can’t be mistaken…oh…Miss Hong is lying on her back…her position is like a woman in labor, her legs are slightly bent…her head is resting on a pack of cigarettes…that place…in the middle of the intersection…his head is bobbing up and down like it’s stuck to…oh oh…dead, dead…stop, stop, stop, sir…

Chuyet…chuyet…his mouth pursed, his lips pursed, his tongue licked around his lips, he looked up and smiled. The scene was like a male buffalo sniffing and licking a female’s pussy.

Tags: Mother went to work at the company and had an affair with a young man.