狂风呼啸,雨淅淅沥沥地下着。我拎着包,垂头丧气,如同晒蔫的叶子,有气无力。精心创作的文章被老师返还重写,这无疑是一记重拳,砸在我的心灵深处。推开家门,我一声不吭,从包里拿出作文本,使劲甩向书桌,一头倒在床上。屋外传来熟悉的脚步声。“儿子,怎么了?天气不好,现在睡觉会着 The hurricane whistled and the rain fell on the ground. I looked at the bag and was dejected. Like the leaves of the sun, I was weak. The meticulously created article was rewritten by the teacher. This is undoubtedly a heavy punch and lingers in my heart. When I pushed the door open, I did not say anything. I took the text out of my bag and threw it hard at the desk and fell on the bed. Familiar footsteps came from outside the house. "What happened to my son? The weather is bad.