It was almost ten in the evening when I received a message from my best friend and I went out to find her. She was sitting on a bench with a heap of snot wad. I said nothing but immediately poured out some soup which I had prepared for her. Steam was rising and the smell was wafting. She drank it and we talked afterward. She didn't cry in front of me but I knew and I could feel her pain inside. She let the rain do the rest for her. She let the rain scrub the past three years. Three years was long in her life but at the same time it wasn't. We saw a man wearing a white T-shirt and it seemed that he put forth his energy to run. There were only three people in the stadium on this raining autumn evening. “Maybe he is the same. Maybe he feels the same. Maybe his love has gone away so he runs in the rain.” Her voice rose up in the air.

///

Last year. One day in November. One drizzling evening in November.

After playing Go with him in his room, he walked with me through the corridor to the lobby.

We both lived in the dormitory. He lived on the fifteenth floor and I lived on the
thirteenth.

He waited for the lift with me. When I stepped inside, he asked, “What's our
relationship now?” I stared at him and made no sound. I didn't even speak a word and then the door was closed.

I should have told him that I loved him. I should have told him at that time.

///

When I was in kindergarten, I had a very good friend who lived in the block next to me. We were so young that love couldn't even grow between us. We spent much of our time with each other and shared lots of happy memories. However, I was forced to learn that there isn't any long-lasting relationship in life earlier than other children. I was forced to say goodbye to him because his parents got divorced and he needed to move away with his mother and sister. Everything happened so fast that we lost contact and I didn't meet him for nearly a decade. I missed this childhood sweetheart sometime and wondered how his life was going on. When I was in grade 4 in the secondary school, I tried to find him on Facebook and I did. I asked him for a date and I thought of a superb reunion. Yet, a decade was truly too long.

Everything changed so fast. I just wished I had a chance to go back to the past and tell myself not to find him.

///

Walking to the old campus and waiting for the traffic light to tum from red to green, I hear some noises popping behind me and Alston. There are three boys chatting which we can easily clarify because of their voice and tone. One of them miserably said that he wishes to be in a boys’ school for four years rather than staying at Baptist University. What? I mean we have lots of lovely and charming girls here, so why would he have such kind of thoughts? It's not normal if this sentence is coming out from a boy's mouth. I really don't get it.

“I'm not a good-looking guy. I look disgusting and I will never get a chance to go on a date before I graduate,” he said sincerely, with a bit of disappointment and self-ridicule. Are you serious? I think if he is really telling the truth, it will be a sorrowful story. It ignites my curiosity to explore his appearance. Alston in fact is paying attention to the same conversation and turns his head stealthily. “How does he look?” I ask. “His look is really......um......not pleasant.” Alston replies.

///

We were on the upper deck of the bus. My mother is sitting on my right-hand side and I could see the wave of the sea on my left-hand side. The sun was setting and it turned the sky to garlic-scented- vine.

“Mum, have you ever thought of getting divorced?” I questioned out of curiosity. “Yes, I have. We had a hard time in our marriage, like any other spouses.”

“Then why not?”

“Because we have you. No one says it's easy to maintain a relationship and we tried to break through the barriers. It's what we should do.” She continued after a pause, “My girl, remember to be with a person who loves you more than you love him.”

I said nothing and listened to my mother talks about her ex-boyfriend and my father's ex girlfriend.

///

Mrs. Wong was my favourite teacher in primary school and taught my class
mathematics in the last two years. We were glad to see her wearing sports shoes but not high heels for months. Yet, she was suddenly absent for a week. I was the class monitor so I collected all the homework and brought them to the staff office after she came back with one of my classmates. When we arrived, I put the homework on her desk. Mrs. Wong hung her head down and seemed dejected. I gave a closer look and discovered that she was crying. I wanted to comfort her, but as I stepped forward, my classmate held my hand and shook his head. We left the office quietly afterward.