吴晓峰八岁的时候发过一次烧,那是他最得意的一次生病。妈妈在他的额头摸了摸,就起身给他班主任打电话请假,那一次他在家里歇了三天没去上学,当然作业不用做了。现在他想再像八岁那次一样,故意冲到大雨中,让自己浑身淋透,然后狠狠地再发一次烧。当然这是不可能了。雨水啪啪地打在窗户玻璃上,窗外竹林沙沙响,一辆黄色叉车不知被谁晾在了三厂外面的广场上,王总要是一瞥眼看到了又是要骂的。他起身去办公柜里拿木皮样品, Wu Xiaofeng issued a burn when he was eight years old, it was his most proud of a sick. Mom touched his forehead, and got up to call his class teacher leave, that time he was at home for three days did not go to school, of course, do not do homework. Now he wants to be like another eight years old, deliberately rushed into the heavy rain, so that he was drenched, and then severely fired again. Of course, this is impossible. Rain flapping hit the window glass, the window swaying bamboo, a yellow forklift I do not know who was hanging outside the three plants in the square, the king must always see the glance to scold again. He got up and went to the office to take a sample of veneer,