感觉中最难记忆的是气味吧。某个夏天的傍晚,信步走过荷塘,微风中,淡淡的水腥味儿,夹杂着些许小番茄的清新,让人莫名地心醉。然而,仿佛就在乌云堆积的午后,炙热压得人喘不过气来,正埋头苦学时,那气味就消失了,而今,只能用文字来描述它。你永远失去了它,任凭怎么努力想,也找不回那种感觉了吧?其实不是的。时间拖着人往前走,走过一路风光。就算加上坚持的调料,记忆也总有一天会成为风蚀的岩石,千疮百孔,索然无味。那么缓慢,却又那么坚定,所 The hardest thing to remember is smell. A summer evening, walked through the lotus pond, breeze, a touch of watery smell, mixed with a little fresh tomato, inexplicably intoxicated. However, as if in the dark clouds accumulated in the afternoon, the heat was overwhelmed and was studying hard, then the odor vanished, and now it can only be described in words. You lost it forever, despite how hard you tried to find that feeling, right? Time dragged forward, walk all the way scenery. Even with insisted seasoning, memory will one day become a wind erosion of the rock, riddled with holes, boring. So slow, yet so firm