AR1-unit 2 课文详解课件.ppt

SUPERMAN 1 he year the war began I was in the  fifth grade at the Annie F. Warren  Grammar School in Winthrop, and ; 2 I lived on the bay side of town, on Johnson Avenue, opposite the Logan Airport, and before I went to bed each night, I used to kneel by the west window of my room and look over the lights of Boston that blazed and blinked far off across the darkening water.  ; The sunsetflaunted its pink flag above the airport, and the sound of waves was lost in the perpetualdroning of the planes. I marveled at themoving beacons on the runway and watched, until it grew completely dark, the flashing redand green lights that rose and set in the skylike shooting stars. The airport was my Mecca, my Jerusalem. All night I dreamed of flying.;3 Those were the days of my technicolor dreams. Mother believed that I should have an enormous amount of sleep, and so I wasnever really tired when I went to bed. This wasthe best time of the day, when I could lie inthe vague twilight, drifting off to sleep, makingup dreams inside my head the way theyshould go. My flying dreams were believableas a landscape by Dali, so real that I would awake with a sudden shock, a breathlesssense of having tumbled like Icarus from thesky and caught myself on the soft bed just intime. ; roaring by in his shining blue suit with his cape whistling in the wind, looking remarkably like my Uncle Frank who was living with mother and me. In the magic whirling of his cape I could hear the wings of ahundred seagulls, the motors of a thousand planes.; 4 I was not the only worshipper of Superman in our block. DavidStirling, a pale, bookish boy who lived down the street, shared my love for the sheer poetry of flight. Before supper every night, we listened to Superman togeth