I seem to be a bookworm, crawling in the pile of books all day long, from the "Four Great Masterpieces", "Ziji Tongjian", "Orphan of the Mist" and other masterpieces of the knowledge of the rain, as if digging into the endless treasure, not happy. There are many rooms in our house, and the one on the north side is the study.
Walking in, on the north wall was a large, bright window, which mom had fitted with a beautiful curtain.
Below the window was a long desk, on which I did my homework every day, and to the right of the desk was a computer, which Dad used to study and work.
One whole wall on the west side is a bookcase, which is divided into upper, middle and lower levels, the upper and lower levels are bookcases, and in the middle is a glass window, which is full of books. Since I started school, my dad let me have four compartments, and now my bookcase is almost full. A pink lamp sits in the upper left corner of the desk. Every day when I come home from school, I sit under the lamp to read and write. The bookcase is neatly arranged with extracurricular books, tools, compositions and so on, which are like a small treasure trove of knowledge, constantly providing me with spiritual food.
I do my homework on the desk, the height of the desk can be raised and lowered, and as I grow up, the desk grows taller with me.
Writing in the study was a catharsis of the mind, and would allow inspiration to stack up bit by bit, and I'll never forget what that was like.
In the quiet study, the aroma of books is still permeating the room, there is a light fragrance, there is a simple fragrance, there is a strong fragrance. In the study, there is the figure of my study, there is the figure of my play. My study, I am happy! Study all day with my growth, in the study, I learned a lot of knowledge, I love my study.