盛夏的夜晚蝉声聒噪,仿佛永无休止地宣泄着对热气的不满。风拢起了清凉的裙摆,明晃晃的白炽灯照着蒸笼般的教室。我随手翻开一本杂志,上面矫情的文字朝着我挤眉弄眼,空洞泛滥的描写令我的胃一阵翻江倒海。忽然,教室后方骚动起来,同学们不怕炎热, Midnight cicadas noisy, as if endlessly vent their dissatisfaction with the heat. Wind gathered together a cool skirt, bright shining incandescent like a steamer-like classroom. I readily open a magazine, the above hypocritical text wink at me, empty description of the proliferation of my stomach burst of frustration. Suddenly, the back of the room riots, students are not afraid of hot,