绿草如茵,随风摇曳。每晚睡前,脑海中会浮现出一棵小草的故事,很神秘,很新奇,那是我最开心的时刻。我喜欢故事,喜欢神奇,甚至睡梦中都会出现这个故事,任由它一遍遍不知疲倦地出现在梦中。不知从何时开始,这个故事消失了。我心里空落落的,试图回忆起它,可是它就像从来没有出现过一般,默默地从我的脑海中溜走。“还记得那片草地吗?”“草地?不,不记得了。”我们家的对面明明是一座高楼。“我以前常带你在那里捉蚂蚱,我们一起跑来跑去……” Green grass, swaying. Every night before going to bed, my mind will emerge a grass story, very mysterious, very novel, it is my happiest moment. I like the story, like magical, and even this dream will appear in this story, let it appear over and over again tirelessly in the dream. I do not know since when this story has disappeared. My heart is empty, trying to recall it, but it has never happened before, silently slipped from my mind. Do you still remember that piece of grass? “” Grassland? No, do not remember. “” The opposite of our home is clearly a tall building. “I used to catch grasshoppers where you used to, and we ran around together ... ”