Lisa » esterday, the teacher

esterday, the teacher arranged a micro composition. After I finished the homework and then arranged my mother's assignments for my extracurricular tasks, I started writing. I picked up a text from the bag and wrote it. When I wrote half of it, I suddenly thought of a problem: bad! This is not a micro-text, it is a diary! Because the diary and the micro-text are about the same size, they are not separated. But the micro-text is not in the bag. So I found it with my mother. In order to find the micro-text of my hide-and-seek with me, I found a job with my mother. My mother looked for a large collection of books. I looked for other rooms, but it seemed to be deliberately going to be against me. Nothing. I am very annoyed, what should I do? How to do? Mom looked at me anxiously: "It��s so late Parliament Cigarettes, it��s better to write this book to the teacher! The teacher will forgive you.�� So I listened to my mother��s words and wrote it in the diary. In the morning, I explained to the teacher with a diary, but the teacher said that Ma Weizheng said: "Micro composition is micro composition, diary is a diary, and later micro composition and diary are to be displayed separately. If you lose today, One, tomorrow, he lost a book, what should I do?" My face was white for a while. "You look for the micro-text again! The composition written before, if it is gone, is it a pity? If you can't find it, you can only buy one more Newport 100S. You go with the fish." Let me know, let her register your name. Deduct a point, put this composition on the micro-text, and then make a fine essay." In the class Cigarettes For Sale, the teacher in front of all the students, take me as an example. Tell the class that you can't do this. I can't wait to find a place to sneak in, and my face burns like a charcoal fire. At this time, the time seems to be still, and every second seems like a torment, like it has been a year. The words of the teacher's sentence are like a sharp knife, engraved in my heart. I looked down and didn't dare to look at the eyes of my classmates and teachers. I was afraid that those who turned to me would look like knives. I once again slammed a few knives in my heart, but my heart could only blame myself for being careless. I didn��t even know where
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