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一多年后的一个午后,我重新走进这间灰旧的老屋,站在布满灰尘的课桌前,看着课桌上模糊的字迹,我仿佛又看见了旧时光的倒影。彼时用小刀在课桌上留下的划痕立刻呈现在我眼前,如此清晰,仿佛从时光深不见底的湖泊里慢慢浮上来。我从课桌底层抽出一本沾满灰尘的笔记本,上面密密麻麻地写满了字,都是小说和散文,还有一些青涩、煽情的诗歌。像一个打捞者,我在时光的深海里捞到带有私密气息的什物。与文字结缘,得从初中时说起。我读初中时,语文老
One afternoon after many years, I walked back into the old, gray house, stood in front of a dusty desk, looked at the vague writing on the desk, and I seemed to have seen the reflection of the old days again. The scratches left on the desks with a knife at that moment were immediately before my eyes, so clear as to float slowly from the bottomless lake. I drew a dusty notebook from the bottom of the desk, filled with words densely filled with novels and essays, as well as a few sentimental and sensational poems. Like a salvager, I was in the depths of time fishing with a private atmosphere of the thing. Be connected with the text, have to talk about junior high school. When I was in junior high school, the language was old