小雨淅淅沥沥地又下了起来,而雨中的伞又如花朵般绽开了———可那已不是从前的那把伞,雨也不是那一场刻骨铭心的雨。可我还是经不住大脑的支配,思绪的书本依然迅速地翻开最令人难忘的一页。“你怎么还不回家呀,今天怎么有空在教室里了?”一个同班同学问我。我静静地伫立着。“ The rain plucked down again, and the umbrella in the rain blossomed like a flower—but it was not the umbrella that was before, and the rain was not the unforgettable rain. But I still can’t stand the control of the brain, the book of thoughts still quickly open the most memorable page. “Why don’t you come home yet, how can you be free in the classroom today?” asked a classmate. I stood quietly. “