初中最后的夏天,我遇见过一场潮汐,一场宁静深沉的潮汐。我还遇见过一场大雨,一场带来涤荡与希冀的大雨……透过回忆的折光,我时常想起小汐,我初三那年的同桌。她歪着头在纸上写诗,时而抬头望一望黑板,稀疏的光斑落在她的身上……她是漂浮在那个暑气燥热的夏天中,一个透明的梦。她是夏日漫天火红中,一抹清新的蓝色。在那个近乎疯狂的夏天里,每人都为了一张录取通知书放弃了很多。小汐却始终是淡漠的。她在老师唾沫横飞的复习课上,抄着那些她喜欢的文章,那些华美哀伤的句子。她的字 The last summer of junior high school, I met a tide, a quiet deep tide. I also met a heavy rain, a heavy rain that brought a cleanse and hope ... Through the refraction of memories, I often remembered Xiao Xi and I was at the same table in the third day of the third year. She tilted her head and wrote poetry on the paper, looking up at the blackboard and looking out for sparse patches of light on her ... She was floating in the hot, summer heat, a transparent dream. She is a fiery summer, a touch of fresh blue. In that almost crazy summer, everyone gave up a lot of offer letters. Small tide has always been indifferent. She was in the teacher’s saliva review class, copied the articles she liked, those beautiful sad sentences. Her word