Classified TrainingⅢ 分类训练三
读后续写
（一）
阅读下面材料，根据其内容和所给段落开头语续写两段，使之构成一篇完整的短文。
A Painting Just Like Home
Lisa wasn’t so happy when the bell went for break. At her old school， she used to play with her friends. Now she sat alone in the corner of the field and watched the other kids play. The only thing Lisa liked about her new school was art. She hadn’t had art classes at her old school， but here they lasted a whole hour. During the art classes， Lisa forgot that she didn’t have friends here.
When clearing her table， Lisa noticed a box of chalk by the window. She put it in her pocket. Then she took her usual place at the end of the line. As she and her classmates walked down the hall and out into the playground， Lisa remembered how she and her mother used to draw chalk designs on the long drive way leading to their old apartment. The patterns are called rangoli， a traditional Indian decoration， and they look like stars and roses. Lisa’s mother said the drawings were to welcome guests to their home. Lisa missed the times.
Lisa walked to the basketball court and sat on the sidelines. She took the chalk out and began to draw her favorite rangoli pattern with huge petals （花瓣） and stars with eight points. “That’s pretty，” a voice said. She turned around and saw that Eric， a boy in her class， was watching her. “It’s called rangoli，” she said. “The floor of my grandmother’s house has patterns like that，” Eric said.
“What do you mean？” Lisa asked. “Hand me a piece of chalk，” Eric said. Eric sat down and began to draw. He drew flowers that were more detailed than Lisa’s， but still had huge petals. Then he drew circles inside circles， and surrounded them with small diamonds. Lisa kept drawing too.
“What are you guys doing？” a voice asked. Lisa and Eric had been so absorbed in drawing that they hadn’t noticed their classmate Emma had been watching them. “Hey，” Emma said， sitting down beside them， “that looks like the rugs （小地毯） in my house. Except on the rugs， the shapes are bigger and flatter.”
注意：续写词数应为150左右。
“Show us，” said Eric， handing Emma a piece of chalk.
Hearing the teacher’s praise， many students gathered around.
（二）
阅读下面材料，根据其内容和所给段落开头语续写两段，使之构成一篇完整的短文。
In high school， I was an editor of the school newspaper at the Student Union. And I won two national awards. I’ve been so focused on my dream of being a magazine editor that I’ve never wasted my time being fake-friendly to people—I was too busy for that. I almost didn’t socialize much in school， which meant I almost didn’t have any real friends in school. Unexpectedly， that annoyed a lot of people out of my expectation， so they began to talk about me behind my back. The gossip （流言蜚语） never bothered me since I was so into my goals and had no time to care much. But then I appeared on TV， and things changed.
When the show first broadcast last May， I received dozens of mean posts about me on the media sites， calling me “crazy”， and even some dirty words were used. Worse still， some strangers shot their fingers at me. How could they say such terrible words to me when they’d never met me？ I still tried to focus on my work and told myself not to care about this， but that didn’t stop their comments from streaming in. Every day， messy messages continued to come in and it seemed no sign of end.
When I walked into class on a Monday morning， some girls actually pointed and whispered that I broke down the TV program. I wish I could have faced all negative things calmly or even ignore the gossip， but I couldn’t. Each time I went out of or into the classroom， there would be people I knew or total strangers， staring at me or whispering， only adding to my sense of shame， and I just wasn’t able to shake any of it off. All the negative attention started to overwhelm （压倒） me physically and mentally.
注意：续写词数应为150左右。
Soon after， all the negative words started to destroy me.
I saw a quote in the journal. “Once you choose your way of life， be brave to stick it out and never return.”
（三）
阅读下面材料，根据其内容和所给段落开头语续写两段，使之构成一篇完整的短文。
When I’m driving alone， my thoughts bring me back to my teenage years. My memory is foggy as to whether I was sixteen or seventeen years old that sunny autumn Saturday. But the memory is crystal clear when I think of that cold morning. Dad and I were driving to town when we met a squirrel （松鼠）， which left a deep impact on my life.
That morning， I was sitting next to Dad， daydreaming as I stared out of the window and singing along with the music on the radio. I’m sure it was a piece of hippie music my dad didn’t approve of. Considering it “one of those loud hippie songs”， he complained that I should turn it off. My dad was a strong man I loved and feared. I did what he told me and knew there was no back talk， ever. He was a strict and impatient man， but when he laughed， it sounded like a fiery volcano， with loud and explosive sounds coming from the bottom of his belly. There was nothing quiet about Dad.
We were approaching the crossroad of two side streets in this typical Chicago neighborhood. There was a park on our left side， with slides emptied at this hour. In front of a local bar were brownish-green lawns （草坪） between gray city strips. The Tavern Bar served great lunches all week to the factory workers and I thought， how strange， no pizzas or burgers were coming from there. The streets were so unusually empty. That was why I was surprised when Dad suddenly tried to stop his car as we were turning left.