曾经常常走过的小道,已经有多久没有从上面走过了呢?每当想到这里的时候,夏小萌都要轻轻地叹一口气,大跨步地从那条阳光繁盛的“林间小路”旁边绕过去。一路上,书包上挂的小铃铛叮咚叮咚响,软鞋底的红皮鞋叩在青石板的路上有节奏地发出“啪啪”的声音,不知为何显得分外清脆悦耳。“都是个高中生了,还是喜欢穿红皮鞋,书包上还是挂着铃铛啊,不怕被同学们嘲笑吗?”妈妈已经这样说了很多次了。这句话可能是因为听得太多了吧,居然像录音带一样清晰地从夏小萌脑子里浮了上来。 How often did not the trail that had been often walked past it? Whenever I think about it, Xia Xiaomeng should gently sigh and take a great stride from the sun-thriving “Lin Next to the road ”around the past. Along the way, the small bells ding dong ding dong hang on the bag, the soft soles of the red shoes knocking on the road on the bluestone rhythmic issue “pops ” sound, I do not know why it is exceptionally crisp sweet. “Are a high school student, or like to wear red shoes, bag or hanging bells ah, not afraid of being ridiculed by the students?” "Mom has said so many times. This sentence may be because too much to hear it, actually like the tapes clear from Xia Xiaomeng mind floating up.