I was supposed to be in English class, and suddenly I saw an eraser on the windowsill next to the boy at the front table, especially like mine.

I immediately flipped through the stationery box, no! I wanted to ask him if he had picked it up on the ground, but he didn't know how to open it.

So I started to make up the picture: "Hello, is that eraser yours?" (Did you pick it up?) ...... "I imagined my movements, expressions, tone, answers, but none of them spoke, and I realized that I was strange.

I feel that every sentence is not perfect and not in place. But it's been a month, and the conversation with him doesn't exceed five sentences (not even five!).

), including the two boys next to him. I felt like I was getting worse and worse the more I lived, and I collapsed to the point of self-deprecation (covering my face).

I started thinking about how to describe my behavior to Peng Xiao (a friend of mine, not his real name) after class.

In order for this story to have a happy ending, I secretly decided that I must ask clearly. But in the end, I didn't ask at the end of class.

I

"Crying" told this sad story to Peng Xiao. I looked at him at the front table, always shaking his head back, he who hadn't bumped into me yet, he who was reading, he who was talking...... Countless hims, I didn't ask, so speechless.

。 Am I sick!

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