那年夏天,我还是孩子,在一座人口约三十余万的小城市里念书。学校在城郊,新建不久,窘迫得紧,除了纵横交错的几条水泥路,大部分地面是光秃秃的红壤,没有草皮覆盖,被阳光一晒,哧哧地直冒热气。寝室在教学楼后方,二幢,五层。我住三楼最东头,阳光直射,把整间屋子烤得似蒸笼,在里面坐不上一 That summer, I was a child, studying in a small city of about 300,000 inhabitants. Schools in the suburbs, newly built shortly embarrassed, except for a few criss-cross the cement road, most of the ground is bare red soil, there is no turf covered, the sun a sun, staggered to take the heat. Bedroom behind the teaching building, two, five. I live on the third floor of the East, the direct sunlight, the whole room was roasted like steamer, sit in there