That year, as a student at a training center for the creation of a large literary publication, I went to Beijing to attend a pen meeting held by the publication. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 The info session lasts for seven days. During the day, we were given lectures by literary experts hired by the journal, and in the evenings, we were free to move.

On the first night of the PEN meeting, after dinner, the students who shared a room with me went out to run errands. I was bored by myself and wanted to go downstairs for a walk.

As soon as I walked out of the room, I heard a round of applause and laughter from a room not far away. Walking to the door of that room, I stopped curiously. Seeing that the door was hidden, as if not rejecting a visit, I stretched out my hand and pushed it open.

The room was full of students who had come to the PEN meeting, and they were having a party. Seeing me push open the door, a young man who seemed to be the host nodded at me and said, "Please come in." I nodded amicably and walked inside.

But all the places in the house that could sit were full. I stood there, not knowing what to do. At this time, a female student sitting in a chair quickly stood up, pointed to the chair and said, "You can sit here." She herself went to the bedside and sat down with the other female students. When I saw this female student, I suddenly remembered that there were two girls living in this room. One came to Shandong, and the other came to Hunan. The one who gave me my seat was a girl from Shandong.

After I sat down, the party continued. It turned out that everyone was playing a game of drumming and passing flowers. It's just that there are neither drums nor flowers. When the young man of the host faces the wall and hits the table with a notebook, it is considered a drumming. Everyone passed a handkerchief in their hands, even if it was a flower.

This was repeated several times, and when the drumming stopped again, the handkerchief fell into my hand. I stood up and sang a little tune from our hometown. Halfway through the song, the Shandong girl who gave me a seat suddenly said loudly to the female student next to her, "It's a good singing!" The volume was very high, as if it had attracted my attention.

Actually, I noticed her during the day. When I first entered the class, I felt that someone was watching me, so I followed that gaze and immediately met a pair of large, clear and bright eyes. I took a closer look at the big-eyed owner, who turned out to be a tall girl. The body is slightly chubby, with a white and clean face and white clothes and black pants, giving people a neat and simple feeling. After class, I found out that this girl and I were living on the same floor, in a room not far away. and also knew that she was from Shandong.

After the party, I walked out with everyone. The Shandong girl came up to me and stopped me and said, "Hey, please sign it." As he spoke, he handed over a notebook. The book is a souvenir sent by the pen club. There are many pages of contacts at the back, with items such as "name, address, zip code, telephone number" printed on it. I filled in my name and address. The Shandong girl immediately reminded: "There is also a zip code." ”

My intuition told me that it was not a courtesy for the girl in front of me to ask me for an autograph. I really want to make friends with me. This desire was clear and strong in her attitude. So much so that I felt that it would be not only too rude to express it, but also too impersonal. So I said, "I didn't bring my notebook, so please sign one for me tomorrow." The Shandong girl immediately said, "Okay!"

However, I didn't want to be friends with her. The reason is very ridiculous: I thought that people who engaged in literature must be as clean as immortals who do not eat the fireworks of the world. But the people I met at this pen meeting were too ordinary, and they were no different from the people I usually came into contact with. So, I don't want to make friends.

The next day, I didn't take my notebook to ask the Shandong girl to sign it. Although I am embarrassed to see the Shandong girl again. But until the end of the PEN meeting, I didn't change my mind. I was too naïve and stubborn.

On the morning of the day I went home, at four or five o'clock in the corridor, I heard the footsteps and talking of the students on their journey. The student in my roommate had already left a day earlier. I was lying alone in my room, listening to the voices that had just been familiar for a few days, and I was leaving one by one, and I felt very uncomfortable. I found that I was actually nostalgic for the period of PEN Club, and I was very reluctant to let it end so soon. I was even reluctant to get up and say goodbye to the students, for fear that it would hurt me to see them leave.

It wasn't until calm regained in the hallway that I got up and went to the water room with my toiletries.

When they came out of the water room, they saw a Shandong girl standing at the door of their room. When she saw me, she just watched silently. In a brief eye contact, I could tell that she had been waiting for me to ask her for an autograph. But I was still dominated by my own ridiculous thoughts, and I avoided her gaze and went back to my room.

When I came to the corridor again with my bags on my back and walked to the door of the room where the Shandong girl lived, I couldn't help but stop. Seeing that the door was open, I gently pushed it open. I saw the Shandong girl lying on the bed, her face facing the wall, and her body did not move. The Hunan girl and a young man in the same room as her were sitting on the sofa and looking at a map. I hesitated for a moment and asked the Hunan girl, "Aren't you leaving?" and the Hunan girl said, "No, we have to play for a few days before we go back." I glanced at the Shandong girl again. She was still facing the wall, her body not moving. I couldn't get rid of my ridiculous thoughts, and I lost this last chance to make amends. I said to the Hunan girl, "Goodbye!" and took the door and walked downstairs.

Walking outside the guest house, I involuntarily stopped again. Looking back at the guest house where I lived for a week, I always felt as if I owed something to the Shandong girl, and I felt very unsure. When I came home after running hundreds of miles by train, I still didn't feel sure. I always feel like I owe something to a girl from Shandong. In desperation, I wrote to a female student who took the initiative to leave me an address (the Shandong girl did not take the initiative to give me the address) and asked for the address of the Shandong girl. But I still can't get rid of it. I had the heart to write a letter to the Shandong girl, but I didn't know what to say, so the matter was put on hold. As a result, this became a long-delayed concern for me.

Many years have passed now. After undergoing many trials in the hot and cold world, the friendship of the Shandong girl has become a treasure in my memory. Now, I have come to understand that writers are also human beings, just like ordinary people. At the same time, I also learned that indifference can also hurt people. This makes me feel guilty every time I think of this past. I really hope to have the opportunity to say to the Shandong girl: "I'm sorry ......'.