I lost my wallet in Midtown early one morning. At around 1 p.m. that day, I got a call from a man who said he had found it.
Although he didn’t speak English very well, he managed to tell me that he worked from 3 a.m. to noon delivering propane to coffee carts from Midtown to the financial district and that he hadn’t been able to call me until he got home to Queens. He apologized for opening my wallet to find my business card.
He told me he would leave the wallet at a coffee cart on 50th Street and Sixth Avenue, where I would be able pick it up the next day any time after 3 a.m. I asked him to put it in a bag, so that it wasn’t obvious it was a wallet.
Despite everything I said, he wouldn’t let me send him anything to thank him. I asked his name several times and he told me several times, but I couldn’t understand him. When I asked him to spell it, that didn’t work either. After we hung up, I received a simple text: just his first name.
At 5:45 a.m. the next day I got a text with a photo of the cart where he had left the wallet (there were two carts on the block and he didn’t want me to be confused). When I got there, my wallet was in a plastic bag and inside the bag was a silver gift bag and a card with my name and his.
Before I could call him, he called me to ask if I had picked up my wallet. Again, he refused to agree to let me do anything for him. He said he was happy I had gotten my wallet back. That was more than enough for him.
— Alice Martell
I was browsing at a bookstore in Brooklyn when I overheard a comment by another customer.
“This is supposed to be very interesting,” she said, picking up a book and showing it to a companion.
There was a short pause.
“But I don’t think I want to read anything interesting right now,” she said.
— Vernon Vig
When my friend Sandy’s cousin died five years ago, Sandy kept some of her things.
One day, I noticed that Sandy was wearing a pair of black leather gloves with pink stripes. I told her I liked them.
She said they had belonged to her cousin, and then she gave them to me. I wore them for a few winters and then donated them to a local thrift shop.
Recently, I met Sandy to go to a movie. She had on the same black gloves with pink stripes.
I asked her where she had gotten them.
“The Vintage Thrift shop,” she said.
She had forgotten they once belonged to her.
— Doris Weil
Born and raised in Queens, I brought my young family from California to New York to visit.
When it was time to return, we got a cab to take us to the airport. It was warm out, so my 4-year-old was standing up in front of me, leaning on the cab door and looking out the open window.
At one point, the cab picked up speed as it turned left off a southbound avenue onto a crosstown street.
The cabby said another cab seemed to be following us. He said the driver of the other cab was waving in our direction and had an angry look on his face.
Our cab continued on, swerving in and out of lanes in an effort to stay ahead of the other cab. We were perplexed and somewhat nervous. Had we annoyed the driver of the other cab in some way?
After several blocks, we thought we were clear of the other cab, when suddenly it was right alongside us.
The driver reached out his open window, grabbed the passenger door of our cab and slammed it shut.
“I saw the door wasn’t shut and your son was leaning on it,” he said. “I didn’t want him falling out.”
And then he was gone.
— Kurt Pritz
Every Saturday afternoon, rain or shine, my friend Patty and I would go to the Sanders Theater in the Park Slope section of Brooklyn.
It didn’t matter what was playing, “The Thing” or Abbott and Costello, we went anyway.
We would see two features, a newsreel, cartoons and a serial in which a young lady was tied to the tracks with a train heading toward her. Come back next week and see what happens!
Candy always accompanied us. I loved Chuckles, Turkish Taffy and Mason Mints. My dentist is grateful that I took these excursions.
One afternoon, someone — a boy, I bet — threw bubble gum down from the balcony. It landed in my hair. My mother had to chop it out, leaving two inches of hair standing straight up.
After the movie, we would stumble out into the sunshine, our eyes blinking to adjust to the bright light.
— Barbara Kaiser
Read all recent entries and our submissions guidelines. Reach us via email firstname.lastname@example.org or follow @NYTMetro on Twitter.
Illustrations by Agnes LeeB:
【古】【澜】【躺】【在】【床】【榻】【上】，【翻】【来】【覆】【去】【睡】【不】【着】，【最】【后】【悄】**【地】【翻】【了】【个】【身】，【歪】【着】【头】【看】【向】【躺】【在】【床】【外】【侧】【的】【阿】【晟】。 【看】【着】【他】【好】【看】【的】【眉】【毛】，【长】【长】【的】【睫】【毛】，【高】【挺】【的】【鼻】【梁】，【淡】【粉】【色】【的】【嘴】【唇】，【还】【有】【棱】【角】【鲜】【明】【的】【下】【颌】【线】，【忍】【不】【住】【咽】【了】【口】【口】【水】。 “【闭】【上】【眼】【睛】，【睡】【觉】。”【阿】【晟】【眯】【着】【眼】【睛】，【语】【气】【里】【带】【着】【笑】【意】。 “【我】【睡】【着】【呢】，【我】【马】【上】【就】【睡】【着】【了】。”【古】【澜】
【车】【子】【就】【这】【么】【孤】【零】【零】【的】【撞】【上】【了】【栅】【栏】【的】【叶】【楚】【楚】，【见】【到】【一】【开】【始】【在】【她】【前】【面】，【此】【刻】【已】【经】【在】【后】【面】【停】【考】【下】【来】【的】【车】【辆】，【说】【不】【出】【是】【什】【么】【心】【情】。 【她】【不】【知】【道】【自】【己】【怎】【么】【就】【这】【么】【撞】【上】【了】，【可】【是】【撞】【到】【的】【那】【一】【刻】，【心】【里】【却】【也】【开】【心】【了】【起】【来】，【因】【为】【你】【这】【样】，【叶】【铭】【寒】【就】【不】【会】【再】【去】【找】【秋】【之】【翼】【了】。 【可】【是】【额】【头】【的】【血】【顺】【着】【腮】【边】【流】【了】【下】【来】，【模】【样】【甚】【是】【恐】【怖】【了】【起】【来】，【叶】马报网站怎么下啊【面】【对】【老】【村】【长】【的】【询】【问】，【老】【田】【头】【微】【微】【笑】【了】【笑】，【目】【光】【澄】【澈】【清】【明】，【再】【也】【没】【有】【了】【素】【日】【里】【那】【份】【萧】【索】【与】【沉】【默】，“【是】【啊】，【跟】【你】【一】【起】【吃】【顿】【狗】【肉】！” 【老】【田】【头】【这】【话】【落】【下】，【苟】【盛】【浑】【身】【的】【毛】【都】【炸】【了】【起】【来】。 【想】【要】【开】【口】，【却】【不】【敢】，【只】【能】【是】【呜】【呜】【咽】【咽】【地】【朝】【着】【老】【村】【长】【叫】。 【老】【村】【长】【朝】【着】【苟】【盛】【瞥】【了】【一】【眼】，【眼】【中】【带】【着】【疑】【惑】，“【咦】？【这】【只】【狗】【难】【道】【还】【能】【听】【懂】【我】
“(･_･)ﾉ⌒●~*” 【冬】【弥】【放】【弃】，【这】【活】【他】【干】【不】【了】，【还】【是】【交】【给】【乔】【伊】【吧】。 【次】【日】，【冬】【弥】【带】【着】【波】【克】【比】【去】【检】【查】【身】【体】。 【而】【伊】【布】【捞】【住】【手】【机】，【死】【都】【不】【去】，【还】【用】【看】【护】“【冬】【弥】【的】【实】【验】【成】【果】”【作】【为】【借】【口】。 【一】【圈】【下】【来】，【波】【克】【比】【一】【切】【正】【常】，【就】【是】……【就】【是】【吃】【得】【有】【点】【撑】。 【乔】【伊】【小】【姐】【还】【嗔】【怪】【冬】【弥】【把】【波】【克】【比】【当】【小】【卡】【比】【兽】【一】【样】【养】。
“【这】【是】【怎】【么】【回】【事】？”【辛】【月】【飘】【在】【半】【空】，【看】【到】【容】【言】【也】【跟】【着】【飘】【了】【起】【来】，【惊】【奇】【的】【问】【道】。 “【这】【是】【我】【的】【领】【域】。【在】【我】【的】【领】【域】【里】，【我】【可】【以】【修】【改】【天】【地】【规】【则】。【能】【让】【水】【火】【相】【容】，【能】【够】【点】【石】【成】【金】，【也】【能】【让】【人】【飘】【在】【空】【中】。” 【容】【言】【拉】【着】【辛】【月】【的】【手】，【在】【生】【命】【空】【间】【戒】【指】【里】【飘】【来】【飘】【去】，【这】【感】【觉】【可】【比】【被】【容】【言】【佣】【用】【胳】【膊】【夹】【着】【她】【飞】【的】【感】【觉】【好】【多】【了】。 【飞】【了】【好】
【晚】【上】【十】【点】，【换】【好】【运】【动】【服】，【穿】【好】【跑】【鞋】，【南】【美】【熙】【戴】【好】【蓝】【牙】【耳】【机】，【锁】【门】【出】【去】【夜】【跑】。 【打】【开】【飞】【讯】【音】【乐】，【翻】【着】【听】【歌】【记】【录】，【却】【找】【不】【到】【一】【首】【合】【适】【心】【情】【的】【歌】。 【每】【逢】【压】【力】【大】【的】【时】【候】，【她】【都】【会】【找】【首】【节】【奏】【强】【烈】【的】【歌】，【一】【边】【听】【一】【边】【跑】，【几】【公】【里】【下】【来】，【心】【情】【就】【舒】【畅】【了】。 【最】【近】【也】【不】【知】【道】【倒】【了】【什】【么】【霉】，【连】【续】【几】【天】【被】【客】【人】【投】【诉】，【攒】【了】【不】【少】【的】【憋】【屈】，