I really love my job because I enjoy working with small children and like the challenges and awards from the job. I also think my work is important. There was a time when I thought I would never have that sort of career.

    I wasn't an excellent student because I didn't do much schoolwork. In my final term I started thinking what I might do and found I didn't have much to offer. I just accepted that I wasn't the type to have a career.

    I then found myself a job, looking after two little girls. It wasn't too bad at first. But the problems began when I agreed to live in, so that I would be there if my boss had to go out for business in the evening. We agreed that if I had to work extra hours one week, she'd give me time off the next. But unfortunately, it didn't often work out. I was getting extremely tired and fed up, because I had too many late nights and early mornings with the children.

    One Sunday, I was in the park with the children, and met Megan who used to go to school with me. I told her about my situation. She suggested that I should do a course and get a qualification if I wanted to work with children. I didn't think I would be accepted because I didn't take many exams in school. She persuaded me to phone the local college and they were really helpful. My experience counted for a lot and I got on a part-time course. I had to leave my job with the family, and got work helping out at a kindergarten.

    Now I've got a full-time job there. I shall always be thankful to Megan. I wish I had known earlier that you could have a career, even if you aren't top of the class at school.

He was 50 years old when I was born, and a "Mr. Mom" long before anyone had a name for it. I didn't know why he was home instead of Mom, but I was young and the only one of my friends who had their dad around. I considered myself very lucky.

Dad did so many things for me during my grade-school years. He asked the school bus driver to pick me up at my house instead of the usual bus stop that was six blocks away. He always had my lunch ready for me when I came home—usually a peanut butter and sandwich that was shaped for the season. My favorite was at Christmas. The sandwiches would be covered with green sugar and cut in the shape of a tree.

As I got a little older and tried to gain my independence, I wanted to move away from those "childish" signs of his love. But he wasn't going to give up. In high school and no longer able to go home for lunch, I began taking my own. Dad would get up a little earlier and make it for me. I never knew what to expect. The outside of the bag might be covered with his way of a mountain scene (it became his trademark or a heart with the word "Dad-n-Angel" in its center. Inside there would be a note with that same heart or an "I love you". Many times he would write a joke or a riddle. He always had some silly saying to make me smile and let me know that he loved me.

    I used to hide my lunch so no one would see the bag or read the note, but that didn't last long. One of my friends saw the note one day, grabbed it, and passed it around the lunch room. My face burned. To my astonishment, the next day all my friends were waiting to see the note. From the way they acted, I think they all wished they had someone who showed them that kind of love. I was so proud to have him as my father. Throughout the rest of my high school years, I received those notes, and still have a majority of them.

    And still it didn't end. When I left home for college (the last one to leave), I thought the messages would stop. But my friends and I were glad that his action continued.

I began getting letters almost every Friday. The front-desk worker always knew who the letters were from—the return address said, "The Hunk." Many times the envelopes were addressed in crayon and along with the enclosed letters were usually drawings of our cat and dog, stick figures of him and mom and if I had been home the weekend before, of me racing around town with friends and using the house as a pit stop. He also had his mountain scene and the hearten-cased inscription, "Dad-n-Angle".

    From self-driving cars to carebots for elderly people, rapid development in technology has long represented a possible threat to many jobs normally performed by people. But experts now believe that almost 50 percent of occupations existing today will be completely unnecessary by 2025 as artificial intelligence continues to change businesses.

    "The next fifteen years will see a revolution in how we work, and a revolution will necessarily take place in how we plan and think about workplaces," said Peter Andrew, Director of Workplace Strategy for CBRE Asia Pacific.

    A growing number of jobs in the future will require creative intelligence, social skills and the ability to use artificial intelligence.

    The report is based on interviews with 200 experts, business leaders and young people from Asia Pacific, Europe and North America. It shows that in the US technology already destroys more jobs than it creates.

    But the report states: "Losing occupations does not necessarily mean losing jobs — just changing what people do." Growth in new jobs could occur as much, according to the research.

    "The growth of 20 to 40 person companies that have the speed and technological know-how will directly challenge big companies," it states.

    A 2014 report by Pew Research found 52 percent of experts in artificial intelligence and robotics were optimistic about the future and believed there would still be enough jobs in the next few years. The optimists pictured "a future in which robots do not take the place of more jobs than they create," according to Aaron Smith, the report's co-author.

    "Technology will continue to affect jobs, but more jobs seem likely to be created. Although there have always been unemployed people, when we reached a few billion people there were billions of jobs. There is no shortage of things that need to be done and that will not change," Microsoft's Jonathan Grudin told researchers.

    Something very strange and mysterious was going on in Sesemann's house. Every morning, when the servants went downstairs, they found the front door wide open. During the first few days that this happened, every room and corner was searched in great alarm to see if anything had been stolen, but not a thing in the house had been touched. The door was doubly locked at night, and for further security the wooden bar was fastened across it; but it was no good – next morning the door again stood open. One servant even claimed he had seen a white figure standing at the top of the steps and then all in a minute it disappeared.

    Mr. Sesemann told his old friend, a doctor, what had happened in his house. That evening they decided to wait for the ghost. One o'clock struck. There was not a sound. Suddenly the doctor lifted his finger. "Hush! Don't you hear something?" They both listened, and they distinctly heard the bar softly pushed aside and then the key turned in the lock and the door opened. They stepped into the hall.

    "Who is there?" thundered the doctor in a voice that echoed through the hall, as the two men advanced with lights and weapons towards the figure. It turned and gave a low cry. There stood Heidi, with bare feet, staring with wild eyes and trembling from head to foot. The two men looked at one another in surprise. "Child, why did you come down here?" said Sesemann. White with terror, and hardly able to make her voice heard, Heidi answered, "I don't know." The doctor gently took the child by the hand upstairs.

    Then the doctor sat down besides her and asked her some questions in a kind voice. Later he went downstairs. "Sesemann," he said, "let me first tell you that the child is a sleep-walker; secondly, the child is consumed with homesickness. Something must be done at once."

    Twenty-one years ago, my husband gave me Sam, an eight-week-old schnauzer（雪纳瑞犬）, to help ease the loss of our daughter. Sam and I developed a very special bond over the next years.

    At one point, my husband and I decided to move to a new home in New Jersey. Our neighbor, whose cat had recently had kittens, asked if we would like one. We were a little apprehensive about Sam's jealousy and how he would handle his turf（地盘）being invaded, but we decided to risk it.

    We picked a little, gray, playful ball of Fur. She raced around chasing imaginary mice and squirrels and jumped from table to chair in the blink of an eye, so we named her Lightning.

    At first, Sam and Lightning were very cautious with each other and kept their distance. But slowly, Lightning started following Sam — up the stairs, down the stairs, into the kitchen. Later, when they slept, it was always together; when they ate, it was always next to each other. When I took either one out, the other was always waiting by the door when we returned. That was the way it was for years.

    Then, without any warning, Sam was diagnosed as having a weak heart. I had no other choice but to have him put down. The pain was nothing compared with what I experienced when I had to walk into our house alone. This time, there was no Sam for Lightning to greet and no way to explain why she would never see her friend again.

In the following days, Lightning seemed heart-broken. I could see the disappointment in her eyes whenever anyone opened the front door, or the hope whenever she heard a dog bark.

    One day as I walked into our living room, I happened to see Lightning was lying next to the sculptured replica（复制品）of Sam that we had bought a few years ago, one arm wrapped around the statue's neck, contentedly sleeping with her best friend.

Once upon a time, science fiction was just a style among other styles. There were crime stories, there were horror stories, there was literary fiction, and there was science fiction. But today science themes dominate these other styles. It's difficult to think of much modern crime, horror or "serious" fiction that doesn't involve science.

And its not just books. With every second movie and computer game having a sci-fi element, science fiction seems to have controlled our entire entertainment culture. It's clear that if we want to define science fiction, we should relate it to the role that science plays in our lives.

Although some experts have claimed to be able to trace sci-fi back to ancient times, it is more reasonable to find it in initial form in the 19^th century, when industrial societies arose. One of the features that set industrial societies apart from other kinds was the increasing part that science played in everyday life. Factories with vast machines turned out huge quantities of goods, which were transported by trains, motor vehicles and ships all over the world. Cities were built on the back of technology, with electricity in homes and hospitals helping everyone to lead healthier, more convenient lives. All of these changes had great effects not only on people's real lives, but on their imaginative ones.

Writers began to describe these changing physical and mental landscapes, eventually giving science fiction a large and devoted fan base of especially young readers, who found that it spoke to their curiosity about the future that science would create.

But sci-fiction reflected fears about science more than it did hopes. These typical early science fiction novels might be a UK novel like H. G. Wells' The War of the worlds (1897). With great skill, Wells played upon the fears of technology by imagining Earth under threat by a civilization-that of men from Mars.

The science fiction of today expresses the impact of the computing revolution, robotics and our environmental challenges, while it is less concerned with "little green men from Mar" and other themes of past sci-fiction.

Given that science, technology and polities are always intertwined, contemporary science fiction often has a great deal to say about power. Many recent novels-like American Cory Doctorow's Little Brother (2008)-are concerned with government and security service "conspiracies (阴谋)" against the people, particularly as the revelations of whistleblowers like Edward Snowden sink in. This can give sci-fi writing a "skeptical (怀疑的)" feel.

This underlines one of the features that remains constant between the beginnings of the empire of science fiction and its state today.

As then, so now: We want to read about how fearful the future will be, not how it will be a paradise.