春节,爸爸给我买了三挂火鞭,响起来简直跟机关枪不差上下。我用长竹竿挑着放了一挂,剩下的,就把它一只只拆开来,锁在我的小抽屉里,准备单个儿放。那样细水长流,可以慢慢地过瘾。但是,没到正月初一天黑,就只剩了最后的一只。我把它抓到手里,来到宿舍大楼门口。我右手捏住小炮屁股,在伙伴们面前摇晃了一下,左手点着了引芯,便把它猛力扔向天空。它在三楼窗前闪动了一下,立即传来一声爆响。嘿,简直脆极啦!但是我心里又有些空落落地难受:我今年的 Spring Festival, my father bought me three hanging fire whistle, ringing is almost no difference with the machine gun up and down. I use the long bamboo stick lug a drop of the hang, the rest, put it apart only, locked in my small drawer, ready to put a single child. So steady, you can slowly enjoyment. However, before the first day of the first month black, only the last one left. I caught it in my hand and came to the dormitory building. My right hand pinch the small buttocks, shake in front of the partner, the left hand lit the core, then it fiercely thrown to the sky. It flashed in front of the window on the third floor, an immediate slam. Hey, it’s just crisp! But my heart is a bit uncomfortable: I am this year’s