Campus group portrait essay
On the back wall of the third (fourth) class, the countdown jumped from three digits to two digits.
There are students who scratch their heads over function questions, class representatives who secretly circulate romance novels in drawers, and sports students who run five laps on the playground every night after self-study. They were like a school of beached fish, mouths open, hungry for a louder sound.
In this summer when no one cares about anyone else, these clumsy teenagers drag each other while trying to save each other. They floated in a sea of questions, laughed in the corridors, and hid their thoughts in the bottom of ice-cold soda bottles before June came.
It wasn't until that afternoon when the cicadas chirped deafeningly, and the whole class collectively skipped class in the stuffy classroom to buy ice-cold sodas, that everyone suddenly understood - this was never a mime. This can of drink called youth, even if it has a bitter background, will eventually taste like sea salt and lemon, with stinging bubbles, a mixture of sweet and sour summer.
Purpose: recall the past of youth and commemorate campus life