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这是九月的第一个星期。林嫣坐在教室里,有些恍惚。班级里笼罩着一层压抑的气氛。拖着昨晚熬到12点的身子,也带着几分忐忑的心情,英语课上她总是不留心地走着神,想着刚才的那场数学考试。怎么答成这样呢?林嫣的心不自觉地抽了一下,隐隐感到的是一阵懊恼和难受。我还不够努力吗?林嫣刻意地叹了一口气。最近,叹气仿佛成了一种习惯,一种怯懦的发泄,透着无奈,显着哀愁。昨天晚上,林嫣收到了一家杂志社的通知书,说是看了她寄来的文章,要吸收她成为少年作家委员会会员。该
This is the first week of September. Lin Biao sat in the classroom, a bit embarrassed. There was a depressing atmosphere in the class. Dragging her body last night to 12 o’clock, but also with a bit of embarrassing feelings, in English class she always walks intently to God, thinking about that math exam just now. How did you answer this? Lin Biao’s heart consciously drew a little, faintly feeling a bit of annoyance and discomfort. Am I still not working hard enough? Lin Biao sighed deliberately. Recently, sighs seem to have become a kind of habit, a kind of embarrassing vent, a sense of helplessness, and condolences. Last night, Lin Biao received a notice from a magazine, saying that she had read her article and wanted to recruit her to become a member of the Juvenile Writers’ Committee. The