Maybe I won't analyze the technical and artistic aspects of the shooting angle, but I can only see deep feelings that touch the soul from the inside.
What I can still remember is that my sister waited for my brother to tell him stories before falling asleep, because my father would not come back, and my brother would pick up his father's job and tell stories every day.
The deepest impression is that the black lightning jumped and washed away the icicles, the rose petals were scattered all over the car, and the white snow picture, large tracts of petals fell.
The most heavy and heart-wrenching thing is that when my father left, his telepathy felt that something bad was about to happen...
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