我站在命运的风中,舒展丰满的羽翼。往日课堂上的朵朵笑颜,在眼前迅速升腾膨胀起来,似一个巨大的梦。那些课堂上的记忆啊……绘画簿里勾勒明媚那时的美术老师古灵精怪。这不,又是一堂速写课。他犀利的眼神含着隐隐的狡黠,掠过我们低着的、乌压压的头顶,似猫头鹰飞掠藏匿于田野的小老鼠上空。“你来。”他手指一点,我的同桌不 I stand in the wind of fate, stretch plump wings. Past laughter in the classroom, rising rapidly in front of expansion, it seems a huge dream. Those memories in the classroom ... ... Art book sketching bright at that time the art teacher weird. This is not a sketching lesson. His sharp eyes filled with faint slyness, passing over our low, unruly head, like an owl flying over the little mouse hiding in the fields. “You come. ” He points a finger, my desk does not