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A short paper on the travel biology of steamed bread?
I am a delicious steamed bread in a steamer, and I am crowded in the steamer with a group of brothers, and I am so hot that I smoke. Everyone wants to get out of the steamer like me and take a walk outside, just like an elder sister said, "The world is so big, I want to see it."

Soon my dream came true. My brothers and sisters and I were bought by an uncle who drove a car, and I finally started my expected trip. This is the first time in my life to take a bus and travel! My uncle was munching on steamed bread while driving, and in a short time, my brothers and sisters were wolfed down-what a pity. Maybe I can't eat when I'm full, or maybe I'm handsome and he won't eat. I think so. But my uncle threw me out of the car with a bang as soon as he raised his hand, and I fell to the ground with a heavy pain.

The winter night is chilly, and I am as cold as a popsicle, quietly lying alone on the cold concrete floor. At the moment, I regret traveling a little. I miss my brothers and sisters and want to go back to the hot steamer!

Suddenly, a rhubarb dog ran straight towards me, his mouth wide open and his eyes cold. The monster rushed at me and swallowed me, and my eyes went black.