Black umbrella enamel pins

Black enamel umbrella pins, give you different feeling, different beauty.

The future is beautiful, just because I know the sun will rise tomorrow as usual.

Or it’s rainy, like today. But I know where my umbrella is hidden.

That’s the Queen’s brand black automatic umbrella I bought at a department store in England a few years ago. It also comes with the delicate black umbrella badge.

It was drizzling that day, and it was always raining in Britain.

When I bought this umbrella, it didn’t rain yet. I found this umbrella.

It was all black except for the dark green buttons on the handle of the umbrella.

You need to buy an umbrella in England.

There will have some umbrella custom coins with the umbrella lapel pins.

In France you\’ll have croissant. In Russia you have to read Chekhov.

I like this umbrella very much, its black is not that arrogant, exclusive black, a little sad.

Now whenever I see the black umbrella enamel pin, I think of that rainy day.

As soon as I got to the door of the shop, the first raindrops fell and I opened it in time. I\’m afraid this kind of encounter is just once in a lifetime.

The future is always a kind of concept that never exists now. There is no body in the future. I don’t like the future. I prefer to go back to the past with an umbrella. The body of the future is given to it by the past. It is arrogant and never knows this. There’s a German novel called “An Umbrella for the Day.” It’s a good novel. The protagonist is a shoe tester who specializes in trying on new shoes (using his stinky feet) for the shoe factory and then reporting the feeling of his feet. It’s a good job.

I tried the umbrella and it was switched on and off freely, but it was only fit for the drizzle. At this moment, under a black umbrella, my shoes came across a small puddle, splashed a little water, it has been clarified at night. I don’t care about tomorrow. Now I’m going to a supermarket to buy some lemons. My worry is that I can’t find this umbrella next rainy day. I forget where it hangs. If it doesn’t rain for three months, you\’ll forget. Life is always attacked by this emptiness from time to time.