时间已经过去很多年了。许多年后的一天,我无意中翻出了几本小时候的漫画书。上面蒙上了厚厚的一层土,书页已经残缺不全。我拿着书愣了好半天,脑子里思索着一个问题:这书是被谁撕成这样的?这几本书没有一本是完整的,全都是一副备受折磨的鬼样子。母亲正在打扫房间,我问她,这几本书怎么这么破啊,是谁弄的?母亲拿着扫把走过来,哭笑不得地说,那还能有谁?当然是你这个淘气鬼了。 Time has passed for many years. Many years later, I accidentally turned up a few comic books as a child. There was a thick layer of soil on it and the pages were incomplete. I had been holding the book for a long time, and I was thinking a question in my mind: Who did this book tear it up? None of these books were complete, and they were all like tortured ghosts. My mother was cleaning the room. I asked her how the books were broken. Who did it? My mother came with a broom, and said, with a smirk, who else could it be? Of course it was you mischievous.