这个日子,是我身上的一个刺青。曾经发誓遗忘的,越发清晰了。竟然成了一本品质上乘的线装书。没有校对,没有美编,更没有正式的出版社。组稿的时间从中国第一个教师节就开始了。它在我生命旺年里越沉越深。我使出浑身解数逃脱几十次了,它还是在每年这个日子如影相随。今天,我依然无法遏止自己,任往事一页一页揭开。扉页上那个清瘦、英俊的班主任应该快七十岁了吧?那个广额深目、卷毛的男孩子也渐渐鲜活起来了…… This day is a tattoo on my body. Once vowed to forget, more and more clear. Turned out to be a good quality thread-loaded book. No proofreading, no beauty, no more formal publishers. The time for grouping started from the first teacher’s day in China. It sinks deeper and deeper into my life. I did my best to escape dozens of times, it is still on this day of the year. Today, I still can not stop myself, the last page of the story opened. The lean, handsome head teacher on the title page should be seventy, right? The wide-brimmed, curly-haired boy is also getting fresh ...