Stories on West Street

Preface

One year ago, I heard from my sister Monique that an old friend of hers passed away. It’s been a year now. That friend’s name is Bug. I knew him as well. But I’m not his friend. I have actually met him only several times in that summer. I didn’t know why he named himself Bug and I didn’t have the interest to know either at that time. As a matter of fact, I didn’t really like him. However, hearing his death brought all my memories back.

We will meet numerous people during our whole life time. And everyone has a story of his or her own. You see, when people died, his or her story is also buried together with the body. Then what is left over beyond the body itself? I see memories as very important things. Because being a materialist myself would deny the existence of ghosts. So memories of the deceased from his or her friends are the only thing that left in this world. The reason why I want to write this book is that I value the experiences I have with Monique and the people around me so very much. Therefore, I feel I’m obliged to write thoese memeories down, in case I forget one day. All the stories are happened and all the people I met are on West Street. So I figured this book should be called ‘Stories on West Street’.

Bug will be brought up in this book by me as a way of showing my respect to him. I hope his friends will always remember him in some occasion. This book is done according to my and Monique’s memories of the summer in 2012.