Short essay
"Xia Wen Xia Wen, it's so boring. Let's pass a small note."
No one noticed the girl's red ears hidden behind her hair. Tear off a page of scratch paper and imitate the lines from the TV commercials I saw when I was a child: Teacher Xia Wen's class has started. After I finished writing, I turned around and quickly turned around. He didn't notice the slightly raised corners of the boy's mouth.
The setting sun dyed the sky red, the bell rang for the evening self-study class, and a beautiful couple stopped in front of the teaching building.
"You can leave. We will never contact you again after you leave, and we will treat it as if we have never known each other."
The words I said when I was young were always so cruel. When he turned around, he recognized no one. He strode away without letting her see the reddish corners of his eyes. She stayed where she was, squatting down slowly, hugging her knees, and two lines of tears fell silently, dripping on the cement floor in front of the teaching building, and disappeared without a trace after a while. Xia Wen stood up on his knees, lowered his head, wiped tears, and walked out of school.
When they met again, she watched him walk into the classroom holding a basketball, laughing with the brothers beside him, turning the basketball in his hands and playing around from time to time. My heart is full of melancholy. The boy turned around and glanced at Xia Wen. His expression did not change at all, and his eyes did not stay on her for a moment, as if she was really just an ordinary classmate whom he met for the first time.
The copy has been screenshot (2023.4.6)
Purpose: commemorate youth