“Why does she hate me so much?” I ask. I expect you to say it’s because Long March is a staunch Communist and vigilant with class enemies. But instead you say, “Long March is an unhappy person. People who are unhappy often hurt others.” I consider this, and then say dismally, “But I am unhappy. I don’t go around bullying people.” “That’s because you haven’t had the chance.” Then you are gone. Pedalling up Vinegar Makers Alley to catch up with your friends, leaving me with the pale wisps of your strange remark lingering in the freezing air. *”