5 . A recent study reveals about 68 percent of Gen Z adults and 20 percent of millennials (千禧一代) are choosing to remain with their families. This represents the largest generational shares among all age groups. Furthermore, the study estimates that 51 million individuals are currently living in multi-generational households.

What’s perhaps more surprising is that these young adults don’t anticipate leaving their for at homes. Both millennials (47%) and Gen Zers (41%) expect to continue living with their families for at least another two years. So what are the reasons behind young adults staying at home?

The reasons behind young adults staying at home are diverse but mainly come down to financial or health-related circumstances. The data suggests that the average millennial, living with a family member at the age of 32, shares their home with three or four other people. Many of them work in food services, construction, or education.

Compared to previous generations, millennials are slower to leave the nest, with 18 percent of baby boomers and 17 percent of Gen X having lived with their parents at the same age as today’s millennials. Several other factors could also explain this generational difference. Younger generations may find it financially advantageous to stay with family to economize on expenses such as childcare, electric bills, rent, or future down payments. Additionally, the increasing number of Millennials and Gen Zers choosing to care for family members may contribute to this trend.

When it comes to the areas with the highest percentages of multigenerational households, Los Angeles stands out, with 35 percent of its millennials and 81 percent of Gen Z residents still living with family members. The high living expense of living in this big city, which is 51 percent above the national average, makes it difficult for young adults to struggle on their own. California’s Riverside area with 35 percent of millennials and 85 percent of Gen Zers remaining at home follows closely while New York rank the third place, with 28 percent of millennials in the Big Apple living in multigenerational households.

6 . Like many families, we had a dog — Little Joe. We all loved him dearly. He always trotted (小跑) around the streets. We tried to teach him about the ________ of the road, and finally locked him in the yard. However, one day, Little Joe dug a hole under the fence and ________.

Sometime later, the ________ news came that a truck had seriously injured Little Joe. We children ran to the ________ of the accident. Apparently unable to move, he lay with his eyes open, awaiting death by a policeman’s bullet, the ________ method in those days of dispatching (处决) injured animals. Tears filling our eyes, we ________around him, frustrated by our inability to respond to the ________ for help in his eyes. The policeman ________ us away from the dog and drew his gun. Wide-eyed, we began to back away with feet that seemed to be made of ________.

Suddenly the crowd began to ________ . My father elbowed (用肘推) his way through and spoke with ________ to the young policeman. “Put that thing away!” Then, ________, he removed his worn jacket and carefully ________ it around Little Joe. Little Joe’s broken body could not have been moved with more ________.

I’ll never forget that homeward journey. My father led a group of admiring children. We held our heads high with pride as we ________ behind the man who had saved our dog.

After struggling for several days, Little Joe finally survived. He went on to live a long life.

10 . After Alexander Pushkin was shot in a duel (决斗) in 1837, crowds of mourners formed in Saint Petersburg. When the wagon carrying the much loved poet’s body reached Pskov province, where he was to be buried, admirers tried to pull the vehicle themselves.

Today’s celebrity funerals tend to involve the public largely digitally rather than in person. But people are passionate all the same. In the past few months, grief has coursed around the Internet for Milan Kundera, and most recently, Michael Gambon. If you stop to think about it, such expressions of strong feelings for writers and actors are odd, even irrational.

Unlike other kinds of grief, this one is not rooted in personal intimacy (亲密关系). If you ever interacted with a cherished author, it was probably during a book tour when she signed your copy of her novel. Maybe you once locked eyes with a musician during a live concert and he smiled at you, but actually he did not even know you.

Objectively, sorrow makes sense when a star dies young or violently. Had she not died at 27, who knows what music Amy Winehouse would have added to her already impressive collections of work? The death of a long-lived and fulfilled artist, however, is far from the saddest item in an average day’s headlines. And while most ordinary people sink into oblivion, these celebrities live on in their output. Why, then, are these losses felt so widely and keenly?

One interpretation is that departed celebrities are merely the messengers. Part of your past —the years in which the musician was the soundtrack, the writer your ally (盟友) — can seem to fade away with them. The grief can be seen as a form of gratitude for the harmony and joy they supplied.

More importantly, the passing of an artist is an occasion for exchanges of ideas. In an atomized age, in which the default (默认) tone is critical, a beloved figure’s death is a chance to share positive feelings and memories with fellow admirers. These sad occasions are the parting gifts of these artists.