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他在画画儿。干净的手指紧紧攥着笔杆,长长的睫毛忽闪忽闪的,眉毛略略扬起,眼睛定定地看着,好像舍不得眨,时不时地舔舔嘴唇,好像在享受着什么。这种专注的神情,我有多久没见到过了?他不是在画什么大作,只是在很用心地画自己的梦想——他在画车。他喜欢车,更准确一点儿说,应该是酷爱吧。我觉得。大片大片的阳光从窗口泻进来,楼下的体育生们还在伴着哨音呐喊。我站在他身后,安静地看着注的神情,我有多久没见到过了?
He is drawing pictures. Clean fingers tightly clutching the pen, long eyelashes flickering, eyebrows slightly raised, eyes fixed look, as if reluctantly blink, from time to time to lick his lips, as if enjoying what. Such a concentrated look, how long I have not seen it? He is not drawing any major work, but very hard to draw their own dreams - he is painting a car. He likes the car, a little more accurate, it should be fond of it. I think. Large tracts of sunshine from the window diarrhea, downstairs sports students are still accompanied by a whistle. I stood behind him, quietly watching the look of note, how long have I not seen it?