我端着一罐水跑到楼梯上,打算背那厚厚的一沓政治。已经是高中最后的自主复习阶段了,而对于政治,我真的没有一点把握。我希望自己一个人背,会更有效率。然而,听到窗外传来了熟悉的舞曲声,我的心便再也静不下来。我知道高二的孩子们在跳集体舞。无数记忆的片段飞也似的从眼前闪过,而我盯着的政治讲义,自然也不再是一行行文字。分明看到那在暮春的风中飘扬的红纱裙摆,分明看到一袭黑衣的男 I ran to the stairs with a can of water, intending to throw back a thick layer of politics. It is already the final stage of self-review in high school, and I really do not have a grasp on politics. I hope to be alone and be more efficient. However, when I heard the familiar dance music from the window, my heart could not rest. I know that sophomore children dance in groups. Numerous memories of the flies also seem to flash from the eyes, and I stared at the political handouts, of course, is no longer one line of text. Clearly see that in the late spring wind fluttering skirt, clearly dressed in black men