That cold January night,I was growing sick of my life in San Francisco.There I was,walking home at one in the morning after a tiring practice at the theatre.With the opening night only a week away,I was still learning my lines.I was having trouble dealing with my part-time job at the bank and my acting at night at the same time.As I walked,I thought seriously about giving up both acting and San Francisco.City life had become too much for me.

    As I walked down empty streets under tall buildings,I felt very small and cold.I began running,both to keep warm and to keep away from any possible robbers.Very few people were still out except a few sad-looking homeless people under blankets.

    About a block from my apartment,I heard a sound behind me.I turned quickly,half expecting to see someone with a knife or a gun.The street was empty.All I saw was a shining streetlight.Still,the noise had made me nervous,so I started to run faster.Not until I reached my apartment building and unlocked the door did I realize what the noise had been.It had been my wallet falling to the sidewalk.

    Suddenly I wasn't cold or tired anymore.I ran out of the door and back to where I'd heard the noise.Although I searched the sidewalk anxiously for fifteen minutes,my wallet was nowhere to be found.

    Just as I was about to give up the search,I heard the garbage truck pull up to the sidewalk next to me.When a voice called from the inside,"Alisa Camacho"I thought I was dreaming.How could this man know my name?The door opened,and out jumped a small red-haired man with an amused look in his eye."Is this what you're looking for" he asked,holding up a small square shape.

    It was nearly 3 a.m. by the time I got into bed.I wouldn't get much sleep that night,but I had gotten my wallet back.I also had gotten back some enjoyment of city life.I realized that the city couldn't be a bad place as long as people were willing to help each other.

    Daylight-powered germ-killing equipment（杀菌设备）may someday help protect health workers from deadly virus like Ebola virus. That is a finding from a study published in the journal Science Advances.

    Study organizers say they've developed membranes（薄膜）that produce very small amounts of hydrogen peroxide（过氧化氢）when left in daylight. Membranes are thin plastic, structures that can serve as barriers. They let some things pass through, but other things art blocked. Hydrogen peroxide, a liquid sold in drug stores, works as a disinfectant（杀菌剂）.

    Nearly 500 health workers were infected and died in 2014 when Ebola spread through parts of West Africa. Caregivers wear full-body protective suits when they come into contact with patients with infectious diseases. But the process of removing the suits is a time when infection can spread if the surface is covered with virus. “If there's any live bacteria or virus on the surface, it's still transmissible and could cause infection,” said Gang Sun of the University of California. He is one of the researchers that worked to develop membranes that could cover the outside of protective equipment.

    When the chemical molecules（分子）on the surface of these membranes are put in sunlight, they react with oxygen in the air to produce small amounts of hydrogen peroxide. Gang Sun explains that the process creates less hydrogen peroxide than what you would use to remove dirt on clothing, for example. But it is still enough to kill organisms.

    Rohan Tikekar is a food scientist with the University of Maryland. He described the development as “quite novel,” or new and different, Tikekar was not involved with the recent study. He said others have developed materials that produce disinfecting chemicals. But most only work under high-energy ultraviolet（U V）light, and not usual daylight. The new membrane also works in the dark for at least an hour or two because of chemical properties that can recharge its germ-killing powers. Tikekar called that an important improvement.

    Gang Sun said the new membranes, though still Far from perfect could be used for things other than protective equipment for health workers. They could also be added to packaging for fruits and vegetables to keep foods fresher and reduce the risk of being polluted. Some versions of the material use natural chemicals' Sun says that one of the next steps is to make it safe to sat

    A monk lived with his brother, a one-eyed idiot(a very stupid person).One day ,when the monk was scheduled to have an interview with a famous theologian(a scientist who studies religions) who had come from far away to meet him, he needed to take care of some matters and would therefore be absent when the theologian arrived. He told his brother: "Receive this scholar and treat him well！Don't say a word to him，and everything will be OK."

    The monk left the temple. Upon returning, he went to meet his guest.

    "Did my brother receive you properly?" asked the monk.

    "You brother is outstanding. He's a great theologian!" exclaimed the theologian with great enthusiasm.

"What do you mean? My brother—a theologian?" stuttered(结巴地说)the surprised monk.

    "We had a passionate conversation," replied the scholar." We communicated professionally by means of gestures. I showed him one finger and he replied by showing me two. Logically, I answered with three fingers and then he astonished me by raising a closed fist, ending the debate. With one finger, I implied the unity of Buddha. With two fingers, he expanded my point of view by reminding me that Buddha was inseparable from his theory. Delighted by the reply, with three fingers I expressed: Buddha and his theory in the world. Then he suggested a wonderful response, showing me his fist: Buddha, his theory and the world, all together as one whole. "

    A little later, the monk went to look for his one-eyed brother.

    "So how did it go earlier with the theologian?" he asked.

    "Very simple," said the brother. "He made fun of me; he show me one finger emphasizing that I have but one eye. Not wanting to fall into the conflict, I showed that he was fortunate enough to have two eyes. Critically, he continued, 'Be that as it may, between us, we have three eyes.' That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Showing him a closed fist, I threatened to lay him out right then and there if he didn't stop his insulting challenges."

    Of course, she wasn't really my aunt and, out of fear, I never called her that to her face. I only referred to her as "My Aunt Fannie" because the name always made my father laugh quietly and gave my mother cause to look strictly at both of us—at me for being disrespectful of my elder and at my father for encouraging my bad behavior. I enjoyed both reactions so I looked for every opportunity to work the name into as many conversations as possible.

    As a young woman, my mother had worked in the kitchen of a large Victorian farmhouse. During those years my mother helped Aunt Fanny make the best blueberry jam ever tasted by anyone in Glenfield. She was well-known for her jam and for never sharing the recipe(食谱) with others. Even though my mother knew the recipe by heart, as long as Aunt Fannie was alive, she never made the jam without Aunt Fannie in our kitchen to direct the process and keep the secret.

    Each August, my mother would prepare me for Aunt Fannie's visit. One year, after I had helped with the jam process Aunt Fannie gave me a coin and then made me promise that I would never spend it. "Hold onto this coin," she said, "and someday you will be rich. I still have my very first coin, given to me by my grandmother." So I kept the coin in a small box and waited to become rich.

    I now have the blueberry jam recipe and the coin from Aunt Fannie. In people's eyes Aunt Fannie's success resulted from that secret recipe. But to me, it was just a common recipe. Neither have made me become a rich person, but I keep them as reminders to hold onto the valuable things in life. Money can make you feel rich for a while, but it is the relationships and the memories of time spent with friends and family that truly leave you wealthy. And that is a fortune that anyone can build.

    Do you need help in creating a character for your novel? Well, you have come to the right article.

    Write down your characters full name.

    You can also write down any other name/nickname/title he or she has. Try not to use your name or someone else's name that you know, as this may be considered personal information. You may be writing a mystery and your main character may just be referred to as, for example, the Man, all the way through the novel. Even if in this situation, to add depth to your character, you should know the character inside-out even if the reader will not.

    Describe your character's physical features.

    Does he/she have red or blonde hair? What color is his/her skin? Is he or she a human, animal, robot or imagined creature? Make your character unusual. Describe your character in an interesting way, even if your character is meant to be common or average. The possibilities are vast; just make the descriptive language good, so that it conjures up(使在脑海中显现)the character for the readers.

    Describe the character's personality in detail

    They are all great for working with as a writer, but you must choose a reasonable one that best fits your

Character—don't try to give the character an unlikely combination of many features. Don't give the character merely neutral or good features. Also add the bad habits and weaknesses. Your character is best if presented as defective (in actions, appearance or personality).Your character can make mistakes, have bad habits, and have little interesting strange habits. This is what makes the character interesting.

    Work out a good plot.

    What is a good story without a good plot? Maybe your character has become mixed up with some bad people or a strange mystery. Maybe your character has only months to live and wants to do something great

    But, the plots must be connected to the character. Keep imagining.

By 11:00, Gopamma knew something was wrong. Her husband, Hanutha, should have returned from collecting firewood an hour before. Gopamma sent for her son, who gathered a search party and headed to Bandipur Tiger Reserve, a nearby national park in south-western India. Just inside the forest, they discovered Hanutha's half-eaten remains. The tiger that killed him was still sitting next to the body.

In the face of her husband's death, Gopamma struggled not only with grief but economic hardship. Her son had to drop out of university. "My life was much better when my husband was alive," she says. "My older son could have studied, but now both of my sons have to work. I feel insecure and dependent. "

Despite all this, Gopamma feels no hate toward the tiger that killed her husband. Like many Hindus in India, she views humans and creatures, each with an equal right to existence. Her husband's death, she says, has nothing to do with the fact that the government is trying to save tigers: "This was my fate."

Rural Indians are unique in the world for their high tolerance for co-existing with potentially deadly wildlife. "You don't find this in other cultures," says Ullas, a biologist at the Wildlife Conservation Society and a leading expert on tigers. "If this kind of thing happened in Montana or Brazil, they'd wipe out everything the next day. "

The country holds just 25% of total tiger habitat, but accounts for 70% of all remaining wild tigers, or around 3, 000 animals today. Success does not come without cost, however. They still have a lot of difficulties with tigers breaking into human-dominated places in certain parts of India, livestock(牲畜) are killed and sometimes so are people.

Some animal activists think that there are too few tigers left in the wild, so even one shouldn't be killed. Tigers are treasures, we'd better live with them together.