Sleeplessness Sleeplessness
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车破人懒 酸奶车又被我抻出了书房,一路慢蹬慢蹬去学校,不禁想起“小扁”。车是喝酸奶抽奖中的,被我称作酸奶车,这车也到很配它的名号,慢得像酸奶一样面。不是我骑不快,而是车太难蹬,所幸我便从不骑快车。即便穿了高领毛衣,不穿大衣骑车向北还是爽透了的爽,还好今天起得晚不算困,没像以往那样迎风流泪。到了学校首次没有上数学课迟到,貌似嘉嘉又“去”了……~上课很是晕菜,还好我带了地理练习册去。下课后一路向东,随小白他们穿越清华去学院路那边的家。清华,我似乎有10年没有进过了,上一次来清华还是电子琴考级,当时我大约是5岁或者6岁,考的大概是2级或3级。突然发现清华并没自己想象的那么优美,路都很宽,却偏偏引来了很多穿行的汽车。树长得都很整齐,草坪也都在道路两旁辐射开来,总之是一大幅理性的简约的人工的美,所谓的“工科”院校,大概就是如此吧~环境,我还是似乎更喜欢北大的,那种少加雕琢的和谐。一路上我都被小白他们甩在后面,靠,破车,真是垃圾。。。骑到家门口,停车,走去吃了一顿13块钱的城隍庙小吃——刚写到这里,哈喇子便不禁自由落体。进了学院路那边的家门,取了一件红黑的羽绒服,一年没穿,我都忘了我居然还有这么一件羽绒服,穿起来,嗯,够厚的。。。出门,骑向海图,买了一本物理竞赛书,是最后一本,破破烂烂的,显然是个半残品剩下的没人待见的。无奈,不知下一次什么时候进货,也懒得再来一次,便买下了。下到一楼,买了个耳机。然后往家骑,车吱吱呀呀,我哼哼唧唧,呵,也算惬意吧。~12月24
赵亮找来的哈利波特6英文版 Chapter 1: The Other Minister It was nearing midnight and the Prime Minister was sitting alone in his office, reading a long memo that was slipping through his brain without leaving the slightest trace of meaning behind. He was waiting for a call from the President of a far distant country, and between wondering when the wretched man would telephone, and trying to suppress unpleasant memories of what had been a very long, tiring, and difficult week, there was not much space in his head for anything else. The more he attempted to focus on the print on the page before him, the more clearly the Prime Minister could see the gloating face of one of his political opponents. This particular opponent had appeared on the news that very day, not only to enumerate all the terrible things that had happened in the last week (as though anyone needed reminding) but also to explain why each and every one of them was the government''''''''s fault. The Prime Minister''''''''s pulse quickened at the very thought of these accusations, for they were neither fair nor true. How on earth was his government supposed to have stopped that bridge collapsing? It was outrageous for anybody to suggest that they were not spending enough on bridges. The bridge was fewer than ten years old, and the best experts were at a loss to explain why it had snapped cleanly in two, sending a dozen cars into the watery depths of the river below. And how dare anyone suggest that it was lack of policemen that had resulted in those two very nasty and well-publicized murders? Or that the government should have somehow foreseen the freak hurricane in the West Country that had caused so much damage to both people and property? And was it his fault that one of his Junior Ministers, Herbert Chorley, had chosen this week to act so peculiarly that he was now going to be spending a lot more time with his family?"A grim mood has gripped the country," the opponent had concluded, barely concealing his own broad grin.And unfortunately, this was perfectly true. The Prime Minister felt it himself; people really did seem more miserable than usual. Even the weather was dismal; all this chilly mist in the middle of July... It wasn''''''''t right, it wasn''''''''t normal...He turned over the second page of the memo, saw how much longer it went on, and gave it up as a bad job. Stretching his arms above his head he looked around his office mournfully. It was a handsome room, with a fine marble fireplace facing the long sash windows, firmly closed against the unseasonable chill. With a slight shiver, the Prime Minister got up and moved over to the window, looking out at the thin mist that was pressing itself against the glass. It was then, as he stood with his back to the room, that he heard a soft cough behind him.He froze, nose to nose with his own scared-looking reflection in the dark glass. He knew that cough. He had heard it before. He turned very slowly to face the empty room. : ?/FONT>"Hello?" he said, trying to sound braver than he felt.For a brief moment he allowed himself the impossible hope that nobody would answer him. However, a voice responded at once, a crisp, decisive voice that sounded as though it were reading a prepared statement. It was coming -- as the Prime Minister had known at the first cough -- from the froglike little man wearing a long silver wig who was depicted in a small, dirty oil painting in the far corner of the room.
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