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一天,偶然瞥到桌角那本歪斜的日历。一个个日期上鲜红的圈和潦草的字映入眼帘,便恰如几只翻飞的蝴蝶,引着我的思绪回溯。原来,已经过去了这么久。还记得初三下期开学的那一天,和友人走到人头攒动的学校附近一家文具店门口,她忽然就不动了,安静下来。“我……”她犹豫片刻,抬头看我,“我有点怕。”夕阳里,她的双眼闪动着不知名的光。我明白她的意思,初三的过程是苦的,在它面前我也只能哑口无言。最后半年的时光还是来了。黑板上雪白的粉笔在飞舞,老师们口若悬河,迫不及待地将知识倾泻出来。他们的声音在教室里回荡,砸碎在课桌上、地
One day, I caught a glimpse of the skewed calendar in the corner of the table. The bright red circles and the scrawled words one by one came to light, just as a few butterflies fluttering, drawing my thoughts back. It turned out that it has been so long. Still remember the day after the third day of the third school, and friends go to a crowded school stationery store near the door, she suddenly did not move, quiet. She waited a moment, looked up at me, “I’m a bit scared.” Her sunset flashed an unknown light in the sunset. I understand her meaning, the process of the third day is bitter, in front of it I can only speechless. The last six months have come. The white chalk on the blackboard is flying, and the teachers are eloquent and can not wait to pour out their knowledge. Their voices echoed in the classroom, smashed on the desk, and ground