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Love Umbrella
by Rose Smith

One night it was raining hard. Xiao hang, one of our servants, knocked on my door. He came to tell me that a certain guest had left his bag on the chair. I opened it and saw that in it there was an umbrella, a mobile phone and some money. Judging from the lighter, the bag belonged to a man.

However, the contents couldn’t tell us who the owner was. So what we could do was wait for the loser to come for it. About six days later, a gentleman telephoned to make inquiries about it. Not until then did we know that he was the very person that we had been looking for.

Having ordered two cups of tea, we sat down for a chat. From his card, I knew that he worked in the advertisement business. I said to him, “Why were you so careless? It was raining hard then but how could you forget your bag in which your umbrella was kept?”

He smiled. From his eyes, I could see that he had a great sweet feeling inside. Then he told me his story. That day he accompanied his girlfriend here for some pastry. He took his umbrella in case she might forget hers, but when he noticed that she had brought an umbrella with her, he hid his in the bag quickly. As he said, they had known each other for only two months. This was the second time they had dated. And that day his girlfriend was going to America on business. He wished to see her off under the same umbrella. So he left his umbrella on purpose.

Such was the story, simple and sweet and sour.

In order to be able to walk under the same umbrella, he seemed not to think the bag important. I asked him, “If I had not returned the bag to you, would you have regretted it?”

He poured a cup of tea for me and then said, “No.”

For true love will never bring repent.