INN

I was on tenterhooks all day, wondering what was going to happen. It seems reading Qingqing's and the author's articles automatically prepares one's mind.

Why do we always have to wait until we lose something to appreciate it?

Oh? Did the man commit suicide...?

I hope that one day I'll brush past a man I'm willing to fight tooth and nail with on the murky circular subway line, even though I take Line 1 every day.