The woman speaking to me at the basketball game looked quite familiar. She said, “Joe? Is that you?”

“Marci?”

“It is you!” she said, smiling widely, “It’s good to see you again!”

It was good to see Marci, too. Off and on during the past tens of years, I’d wondered about her. I almost tried to find her a few years ago, after a friend told me that Marci had been going through a hard time. So running into her at the basketball game was, at the very least, unexpected.

We spent a few minutes catching up on the business of our lives: kids, work, houses, education and hobbies, etc. We played a little “Have you seen...?” and “Did you know..?” And we talked about the old days, both good and bad.

Then Marci grew quiet for a while, looking out over the people moving around. “You know, Joe,” she said, “I’ve always wanted to tell you...how...you know...how sorry I am for the way I treated you.”

I felt a little uncomfortable, remembering how Marci had broken up with me without any warning.

“It’s okay,” I said. “No big deal.” At least, I thought to myself, not anymore.

“But I was such a bad person,” she continued, lowering her head.

Yes, you were, I thought, “We were both pretty young,” I said.

“I know,” she said. “But that’s no excuse for ...” She hesitated (迟疑), and then continued: “I’ve always regretted it, remembering how mean I was to you. And I’ve wanted to tell you that I’m sorry and ask for your forgiveness. So ... I’m sorry.”

The smile on her face was warm and sincere. And there was something in her eyes — it looked a lot like relief (解脱) — that washed away my anger and hate that may have built up within me during the years since she had broken my heart.

It’s the Saturday, 1:00 am, and Stormy, my dog, and I were going on a pre-dawn bird-watching adventure. The weatherman predicted fog, but as we hit the road, it’s clear. Along our journey, I stopped at a petrol station, ensuring Stormy was safely locked in the truck.

“Stormy, hang tight,” I whispered, stepping out into the night air.

Back on the highway, as we were near the marshlands, a heavy fog began to swallow everything. At a sharp bend, my truck hit soft ground, and I lost control. “Oh, no!” Panic set in as the vehicle slid off the road with a bang, falling down a steep bank and into the water.

In the strange silence that followed, I was floating inside the car, gently carried downstream by the canal. “Come on, door,” I said, switching uselessly at the handle. It won’t move; the electrical system had shorted out due to the water. “I’ve got a glass breaker,” I reminded myself, reaching for the tool in the center part.

With each failed attempt to break the window — the glass bouncing back at me — I felt a growing sense of urgency. Water moved over the floorboards, cooling my feet. “Stormy, stay calm,” I said, lying down to kick at the window with all my strength. But my efforts only met resistance.

As the water level rose threateningly close to the ceiling, fear clawed at my heart. In a last effort, I dived behind the seat for my toolbox. “Got to find something solid.” My hands brushed against the cold metal toolbox, then the fire extinguisher (灭火器). “This might work.”

“Here goes everything,” I thought, holding the extinguisher and hitting it against the window. The impact resounded through the car, but the glass holds firm. “Not yet,” I begged under my breath, as the extinguisher bounced harmlessly away.

The water kept rising, and so did my fear. A voice inside me screamed to give up, but another thought pierced through — Stormy. “For Stormy, I can’t quit.” Just then, I sensed a pause in the water’s rise.

An unspoken sound said, “You have more time. What will you do?”

“I’ll fight harder,” I promised aloud.

Exhausted, we caught the now flooded vehicle, waiting for daylight.

I’d been waitressing for months, earning extra money for college. “Since it’s not too busy, go and see if Ray wants any more coffee,” my boss said to me as he pointed to an older man sitting in the corner.

Ray was holding the cup in his hand as he stared out of the window. He was a re gular lunch customer on Mondays and Fridays.

“Can I refill the cup for you, Ray?” I asked. He looked up with a peaceful smile and held his cup out toward me. “You know, I’ve been coming here for several years, and I have to say you have the nicest smile,” he whispered. “Can you sit for minutes... please?”

I sat down and he smiled,   “Your smile reminds me of my granddaughter, Sharon.” He took out a picture of her from his wall et and handed it to me. “She graduated from college last year.”

“What a nice-looking girl!” I said. “Does she live near you?”

Ray shook his head as he put the picture back in his wallet. “She moved to California last year. I miss her a lot. She and I used to have lunch together on Monday s and Fridays,”   he said. “She now wants me to move out there to be closer to her.”

“So, why don’t you?”

“I don’t know if I really want to move. I’ve been here all my life,” he answered.

I heard my boss calling me. “I guess that’s meant for me,” I said as I stood up.

We smiled at each other. “Ray……if my grandfather had been like you, I’d have asked him day and night to move closer to me, too.”   I patted his shoulder. “Don’t wait too long. Nice talking with you...”

For the next couple of weeks, Ray continued to come on Mondays and Fridays. But on that Monday of Thanksgiving week, he didn’t show up. Then one Wednesday afternoon, walking out to my car after work, I heard a voice call my name from across the parking lot.

It was Ray, hurrying to catch up to me.

“Have you made up your mind to move?” I asked.

Jean’s dream was to be a great chef, so when she was 20, she travelled to France, which has the most famous cuisine in the world, to learn to cook. After twelve years, she was among the best.

Her father, Bob, was getting old, and she wanted to be near him. Jean accepted an offer from one of Washington’s top restaurants. The manager offered her a handsome salary, and 30% ownership of the restaurant. The next day, Jean went to sign the contract. As she got out of the car, she caught sight of a green sunshade. Instead of going to meet the manager, she crossed the street towards the old restaurant, Fargonetti’s. She pushed open the door and the memories came flooding back.

Jean’s mum died when she was just 11, and her father lost his job and was forced to freelance (从事自由职业). Money was very short. When Jean turned thirteen, Bob had made a reservation at Fargonetti’s, the capital’s best restaurant.

“I’m not hungry, baby girl. I had a huge breakfast,” Bob said. “This is all for you!” “Oh,” Jean cried. “Daddy was so silly! He’s been saving to come here for lunch for MONTHS and now he ruined his appetite with breakfast!” The waiter, Carl Bader, immediately realised what was going on and went to Mr Fargonetti, the restaurant owner, and told him about Jean and Bob.

An hour later, surprisingly, the waiter brought wonderful dishes and set them before the father and daughter. “Lunch is on the house with Mr Fargoneti’s compliments (致意),” Carl said. For Bob and Jean, it was a free but magical meal. They were on cloud nine when they walked out. “Jean,“ said Bob happily. “I feel our luck has changed!” And it did! The next day, one of Bob’s old friends called and offered him a job at a new magazine, and Jean believed Fargonetti’s had made it all happen. That was when she decided to become a chef!

Twenty years later, the old restaurant looked run-down and sad, but Jean recognised the waiter immediately. “Carl?” she asked delightedly.

The man looked surprised.

Jean was staring at Carl and a brilliant idea was taking shape in her mind.

A couple of days ago, there were many people on the bus. Halfway down the road, the driver suddenly stopped the bus by the side of the road and said, “I’m going to have dinner first. I’m hungry. ” Then he began to eat fried rice noodles while talking on the phone. After a while, many passengers urged (催促) the driver to go ahead, but the driver replied rudely, “Can’t you see I’m enjoying my noodles? I’m so hungry.”

After a few minutes someone wanted to get off the bus, but was refused by the driver. He explained that nobody could get off because it was NOT a bus stop! Standing beside the driver, I watched him have the last of the noodles, thinking that we could finally start now. However, the driver took out another bag of soup!

I began to feel a little angry because I would be late for an important meeting. So I urged the driver to hurry up. However, the driver suggested politely that I should ask for a leave.

When the soup was about to be finished, the driver picked up the phone again, looking in the rear-view mirror (后视镜) from time to time as if he were waiting for someone. At this time all the passengers on the bus began to shout, “We have waited too long. Start right now!” Suddenly, a police car stopped in front of our bus. We all thought that the policemen could help us and we could go at once.

To our surprise, the two policemen got on our bus with handcuffs (手铐).

Watching the thieves having been caught by the policemen, all the passengers smiled with delight.

Mary Lee seemed to have everything. She was very beautiful with a wonderful figure and an attractive face. She was very rich. Her clothes were better than anyone else’s and she had more of them. Her books were always new and expensive as were her pens, school bags and bicycle. She was very clever too and without appearing to do very much work. She was always the first in all the examinations and always answered all the questions, while the rest of the class were still thinking.

With all this, or really because of all this, no one liked Mary Lee. She was too good, too clever and she was also very proud. No one was quite good enough to talk to her or to be seen with her or to be her friend. And so, with all her proud ways and riches and brains, she was lonely but she did not care because she was always the best in everything. She was like a princess in the class. She always thought that the other students kept their distance from her because she was too excellent. “Lions and tigers are always lonely, and only the weak get together,” she told herself.

As the end of term drew near, the pupils including Mary Lee began to think about the most important prize of all. This was the prize, offered by the principal, for the best essay to be written on one of two subjects: Happiness and Friendship. All the teachers and pupils paid close attention to the prize, for it was really a great honor. “I needn’t worry about that,” thought Mary Lee, as the others began to read and to think about the essay. “I shall easily win. After all, my compositions are always better than the other students’.”

“Pride goes before a fall,” they say and it certainly did in the case of poor Mary Lee.

Mary Lee suddenly realized that how silly she had been.