火 ,依然在燃烧着 ,那跳动的、闪烁的火光燃烧的似乎不是我的书 ,而是我的心。尽管因在火中抢那本心爱的《夏蒂》手还隐隐作痛 ,但我能忘记手痛 ,却不能无视心痛。我眼睁睁地看着自己心爱的课外书一瞬间化为灰烬 ,竟只能袖手旁观 ,我像一个愧对知己的罪人 ,默默地立在一隅哭泣? The fire is still burning, and the beating, flashing fire burning seems not to be my book, but to my heart. Although I was still in pain because of grabbing the beloved “Sharti” in the fire, I could forget my hand pain but could not ignore my heartache. I watched my beloved extracurricular book as an ashes. I could only stand by and watch. I was like a sinner who was jealous of his confidant and silently stood in tears.