我初三那年去了一个小镇中学当插班生。那里升学率全县有名,但学校基础设施落后,教室都是墙根长满滑溜溜苔藓的红砖黛瓦房,墙壁上有很长的裂缝,似乎只需一场透雨就能让它变成瓦砾堆。那个盛夏,记得应该是个下午,我们正在上课,天空突然涌起大片黑云,仿佛是谁打翻了天庭的墨汁,很快就把一切染黑了,教室里更是黑得像没月亮的夜晚。刹那间,酷热变成了阴寒,身上起了一层层鸡皮疙瘩。有同学拿出平日晚自习停电时用的蜡烛点了起来,正在上课的政治老师和同学们都挤到窗边往外看。 I went to a small town secondary school that year as a transfer student. There was a schooling rate throughout the county, but the school’s infrastructure was outdated. The classrooms were red-brick buildings that had walls lined with slippery moss and had long cracks in the walls that seemed to be rubble heap. That summer, I remember it should be an afternoon, we are in class, the sky suddenly filled with dark clouds, as if who knocked over the ink in heaven, soon all the black, the classroom is dark as night without the moon . Suddenly, the heat became cold, who played a layer of goose bumps. Some students come up with a candle for self-study blackouts on weekdays, and political teachers and classmates who are in class crowded out to the window to look out.