那时,我们的脑子半在神话里面,半在现实当中。刚刚上小学。当老师在黑板上教一个字的第三个笔划时,我可能被窗外的桃花吸引住了。风吹过,碧桃树从袖子甩出花瓣,像把一封信撕碎了,撒在地上嗟叹。老师说的历史故事固然可听,但倘若窗台爬过一只甲虫,会使我们立刻像狗一样警觉,看它驮着花碗似的甲壳,慢慢爬过水泥裂缝。总之,上学快乐。 At that time, our brains were half in the myth, half in reality. Just go to primary school. When the teacher teaches the third stroke of a word on the blackboard, I may be drawn to the peach outside the window. The wind blew, the bough peach thrown from the sleeve petals, like a letter torn, sprinkled sigh on the ground. The historical story told by the teacher is certainly audible, but if the windowsill climbs over a beetle, it will immediately alert us to the dog’s beetles and slowly climb over the cracks in the cement. In short, happy school.