有人会因为一个人而恋上一座城。也有人会因为某段如流星闪过般残缺短暂的记忆而恋上一段日记里被漂得发白的旧时光。我们都曾迷惘地看着黑板上倒数的日子越来越少吧,然后用汗津津的手将冰冷的成绩单揉成团,用力攥着花纹都被磨白的笔杆像在洪水猛兽中拽着最后一根摇摇欲坠的稻草不知所措。六月的光影逐渐将我们包围再一点点吞噬,我们不知要熬过多少艰辛才能成为最后几个闪亮的传奇。我们也总在校门口接过妈妈 Someone falls in love with a city because of someone. Others may fall in love with a forgotten bleached old time in a diary because of some short-lived meteoric flashes. We all have lost time looking at the countdown on the blackboard less and less, and then use Khan’s hand to knead the cold report card into a group, clutching the pattern are white pen, like pulling in the beast of the last Crumbling straw overwhelmed. The shadow of June gradually surrounded us and then swallowed a little bit, and we do not know how much hardships to survive to become the last few shining legends. We also always take the mother in front of the school