我上课,姐姐坐在台下。我偶尔瞥她一眼,她认真得像我课堂上的某个学生,安安静静的,我的亲姐姐。“想想,真愧疚,我从来都没听过你上课。”姐姐的手轻轻地抚着我的肩,姐姐的眼睛里竟然清晰地印着我的身影。姐姐眸子中的我,是一个孩童,瘦瘦的,站在冬天的风中,站在家不远的矸子山的土堆上,细长的脖子伸向远方。远方是姐姐红格子的棉袄、红色的纱巾,还有军绿色的书包,那包里有用油纸包着的一块圆圆小小的酥饼。姐姐读中学,一星 I class, my sister sat under the stage. Occasionally I glanced at her, she was as serious as one of my classmates, restless, my sister. “Think, really guilty, I have never heard of you class.” "Sister’s hand gently stroked my shoulder, my sister’s eyes even clearly printed with my shadow. My sister, the eye pupil, is a child, skinny, standing in the winter wind, standing near the home of the mound on the mound, slender neck stretched out. The distance is a sister red plaid jacket, red scarf, army green bag, there is a bag of oil wrapped in a round small wafers. Sister read middle school, a star