A gush of warmth was brimmed over my mouth when talking to a friend a couple of days ago. To be frank, she, by a strict criterion, can't even be counted as my good friend; the level of our relationship only goes deeper than nodding acquaintance. Nobetheless, I was completely unable to check my excitement giving rise to all smiles on my face, upon seeing her. So was she. We two just greeted this encounter with childlike joy-- now giggling, now scratching head (actually not itchy at all). In retrospect, it has been about four months since we last met each other. She changes a bit in appearance: that is, she looks prettier, perhaps thanks to her better command of makeup. Despite the slight outer change, she is still the usual "she" I've known for the passing of eight seasons. Although we did not really accompany one another through thick and thin in the past, we did grow up-- no longer physically, you know-- together. In other words, the past memory really came sparkling back to our recalling the old days. Ticktock.... By the time we were going to say goodbye, we grumbled about the flight of time the way honey-saturated couples usually do. She is my old friend; an old friend isn't necessarily a good friend. It requires no tactics to please one another, but such relationship often lasts staggeringly long. I can find no better words to define the delicate feeling old friends give me except that I like them from the bottom of my heart, with no good reason though. --

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