As I drove my blue Buick into the garage, I saw that a yellow Oldsmobile was 1too close to my space. I had to drive back and forth to get my car into the 2 space. That left 3 enough room to open the door. Then one day I arrived home 4 , and just as I turned off the engine, the yellow Oldsmobile entered its space — too close to my car, 5 . At last I had a chance to meet the driver. My patience had 6 and I shouted at her, “Can't you see you're not 7 me enough space? Park farther over.” Banging(猛推) open her door into 8 , the driver shouted back: “Make me!” 9 this she stepped out of the garage. Still, each time she got home first, she parked too close to my 10 . Then one day, I thought, “What can I do?” I soon found 11 . The next day the woman 12 a note on her windshield(挡风玻璃):

    Dear Yellow Oldsmobile,

    I'm sorry my mistress(女主人) shouted at yours the other day. She's been sorry about it. I know it because she doesn't sing anymore while 13 . It wasn't like her to scream 14 . Fact is, she'd just got bad news and was taking it out on you two. I 15 you and your mistress will 16 her.

Your neighbor,

Blue Buick

    When I went to the 17 the next morning, the Oldsmobile was gone, but there was a note on my windshield:

Dear Blue Buick,

    My mistress is sorry, too. She parked so 18 because she just learned to drive. We will park much farther over after this. I'm glad we can be 19 now.

Your neighbor,

Yellow Oldsmobile

    After that, whenever Blue Buick 20 Yellow Oldsmobile on the road, their drivers waved cheerfully and smiled.

    Growing up, I always hid my thumbs in my fists because of their unusual shape. 1 they do look more like a big toe（脚趾）2 a thumb. And from an early age, my thumbs 3 another name “toe thumbs” .

    In high school, I served as a cashier in a grocery store. One day, I was 4 a sweet little old lady and as I 5 her change back to her, she suddenly took my hands and said in a thick Polish 6, “You are Polish! Look at those 7 Polish thumbs! They match mine!” She raised her hands and 8 her thumbs to me that 9 weathered and wrinkled, looked exactly like mine! She 10 my hands again and said, “Be11of those thumbs!”

    I'll never forget that 30-second 12 with a stranger that forever 13 my view of a part of me I once was 14 by and now accept. As I was eating dinner with my Samuel tonight, he looked down at my hand 15 on the table next to his and said, “Mommy! Our thumbs 16!” I smiled and answered, “Yes, they do, buddy! Those are strong Polish 17 you have! Take pride in them! Maybe someday you'll have a little boy or girl who will have the same thumbs!” I 18 my son never hides his thumbs like I did. I hope he'll be proud of their “unusualness” and the 19 behind them. He carries on a(n) 20 part of me and that for me will always be beautiful!

    Clara Daly was seated on an Alaska Airlines flight on the way from Boston to Los Angeles. A flight attendant asked a (n) 1 question over the loudspeaker: "Does anyone on 2 Know American Sign language?"

    Clara, 15 at the time, 3 the call button. The flight attendant came by and explained the 4. "We have a passenger on the plane who's blind and deaf," she said. The passenger 5 to want something, but he was traveling alone and the flight attendants couldn't 6 out what he needed, according to people.com.

    Clara had been studying ASL for the past year to help with her 7 in reading and knew she'd be able to finger spell into the man's 8. So she 9 her seat belt, walked toward the front of the plane, and 10 by the aisle seat of Tim Cook, then 64. Gently taking his hand, she 11, "How are you? Are you OK?" Cook asked for some water. When it arrived, Clara returned to her seat. She came by again a bit later because he wanted to know the time. On her third 12, she stopped and stayed a while.

    "He didn't need 13. He was lonely and wanted to talk" Clara says.

    So for the next hour, that's what they did. She 14 about her family and her plans for the future (she wants to be a politician). Cook told Clara how he had 15 become blind over time and shared stories of his days as a traveling salesman. 16 he couldn't see her, she "looked attentively at his face with such 17," a passenger reported.

    "Clara was 18," a flight attendant told Alaska Airlines in a blog interview. "You could 19 Tim was very excited to have someone he could speak to, and she was such a(n) 20."

    Cook's reaction: "Best trip I've ever had."

The snow trapped Taylor, but taco sauce (卷饼酱) saved his life. It all began last Sunday when Taylor, along with his dog, went to get gas for his 1, according to the Sheriff's Office.

Taylor told the police his car got 2 in the snow. After some time, he then 3   and woke up on Monday finding 4 more snow, unable to get out of the vehicle (车辆). He tried to 5 out on Monday, but the snow was too deep and made it 6 to go on foot so he and his dog 7 to the vehicle.

By Wednesday, a 8 person's announcement was put out for Taylor, according to a report. Over the next few days 9 he was trapped in the snow, Taylor told the police he stayed 10 by "starting his car from time to time. He 11 some of the taco sauce he had as food".

On Friday, a skater called 911 saying they had 12 Taylor. The office soon sent a construction truck to 13 out Taylor and his dog. The officers said they were just "hungry after being stuck in the 14 for five days". Taylor was 15 to who helped him and determined to help others as possible as he could in future.

I was shocked when my socially awkward sister, who had suffered from Asperger Syndrome (阿斯伯格综合症), decided to sing in front of the school. I knew she would1 me in some way, so I protested. However, my parents insisted that she2 and I would have to be part of the audience. I silently hoped that something would happen to 3 me from watching her losing face. 

As I waited in the hall, sweat4 my forehead. I comforted myself that no one knew she was my sister and tried to persuade myself that it would be 5 . The lights darkened and the 6 opened to reveal (使露面) my sister standing alone on stage. She seemed 7 , taking a minute to stammer (结结巴巴地说) her name and class. 8 began to be heard in the audience. 

I shifted nervously in my seat, afraid what was about to happen. But as my sister started to sing, I was 9 . Her voice flowed effortlessly and melodiously, filling the hall with its10 . I watched in wonder, realizing I had never known she could sing so 11 . I listened carefully to the lyric ( 歌词) she had written herself, feeling ashamed for doubting her 12 . My heart gave way as I heard the heartfelt words. 

In that moment, guilt and shame flooded my heart. 13 my unwillingness to support her, she had never taken anything that I had done to her to heart. It was then that I determined to love her 14 . It was as if a veil (面纱) had been 15 from my eyes, and my heart was full. 

Fifteen years ago, I loved going to the gym, but family life and work commitments meant I was finding it hard to get there. With the help of my dad and uncle, I built my own gym in the garden. It's basically a beautified room with insulation(隔热层) and electrics and a small heater for the winter. We built a corner desk too intending it to be for me to do the paperwork for my small business. However, the desk served its real purpose when I started my writing journey two years ago.

I've always had stories going through my mind. I could be out jogging and I'd lose myself playing out thoughts in my head like movie scenes. Once seen, they stay in there. I have trouble keeping other information, but when it comes to story ideas, they lock in. I have many full novel ideas in my head waiting to be written. When I was younger, I wasn't brave enough to write. I didn't do well in school and I've spent most of my life in physical work, so the idea of becoming a writer felt laughable.

I now know there isn't a writer type; writers come in all forms. I still use the gym for its real purpose, but some of the equipment has been replaced by books and a small be d for the time when I want to relax and read. I like to have my desk looking colorful—some might say messy. My love for sport is clear to see, with photos around of my favorite boxers and the football team I follow. On the other hand, having my own writing room is important. Without it I wouldn't be where I am now on my writing journey. It's far from charming, but it is mine. It's my happy place.