text:
I'd like some feedback on this. Just want to know how my prose reads, and if you would want to hear more. Anything else is welcome, as always.

---

I flipped the switch as I entered my dingy old apartment.

It was a cramped room. Barely big enough for me on my own, and I’m a pretty compact guy. The place was about four by five feet, and two by two of those feet were taken up by the glorified closet that I call a bathroom. But it’s enough. Got a nice setup for food that I call a kitchen, despite just being a water-tap, fridge, and a microwave. Got a couch crammed into the corner between the door and the kitchen, and a comfortable bed crammed into the space near the bathroom.

I took a deep breath, smelling the slight odor that permeated my home. It was built out of an old hotel down in what most people would call a “colorful” neighborhood. New Haven was a fairly rough place in general, at least on the lower levels, but my neighborhood was known for the sound of gunshots. Not that it disturbed me. I was used to it, and I was used to being able to shoot back.

I tossed my gun down on the couch as I locked my front door. Then I threw my longcoat down on top of it. After that came my ballistics vest. Those weren’t common in my neighborhood, even among the “professionals” who made their money by threatening people for cash at gunpoint. Most people call those types criminals. I call them “Rank Ameteurs.” I mean, most of them can barely shoot at what they are aiming for, and none of them know how to do anything really impressive so that they can pay for some good hardware.

I got a cup of noodles, ramen, and filled it up and threw it into my microwave. They were a bit outdated as far as food came, but I liked the taste and I got most of my nutrients from pills anyway. Good nutrition is important when you live and die on your reflex actions, as well as your ability to outthink damned-near everything else in existence.

I crashed on the couch, in easy reach of my gun, and leaned back and took in a deep breath through the nose. It had been a good day. I had finally been able to hand off the data that I had pulled a few nights before. Data that had been “acquired” from a private server owned by Helix Biotech at great personal risk, as in I had been chased by a dog the size of a rhino during my escape. The paycheck had been good though. Ridiculously so, and it had been paid via a credit stick, so there were no electron trails to follow.

Hell, with the kind of money I had made off that job I could have bought a better place. Moved up in the world, gotten out of the Ganglands and gotten a nice comfy place to live in. But that was a bad idea. At least in the lower levels, your name doesn’t get put to your face very quickly. That sort of thing is lethal in my business. Moment you rip off a Corps data, get caught on camera, and get matched to that data… well let’s just say having a bounty put on your head is getting off lucky.

My microwave dinged a few minutes after I put the noodles in. I got up, and devoured them all in less time than they took to cook. Nearly scalded my tongue, but I was in a celebratory mood. Threw the junk in the little bin next to the minifridge, and then crashed on the couch again. I needed to get out for a few minutes, I thought. At the very least, I had a cred stick that needed to be put into a secure account or two… dozen.

I pulled the stick from my longcoat’s pocket. It was a simple thing, really. Just three inches of silicon and transistors in a ceramic casing. A collection of ones and zeroes existed inside of it, massively complicated series of numbers and letters that would match out with those on hundreds of serves. Cryptocurrencies like the ones the stick recorded the access codes for were the only kind I dealt in. State currencies were too easily tracked. Not that the Crypto variants like Credits were much better. But if you were like me, and you knew your way around the Virtual, you would know how to obfuscate yourself well enough.

I jacked the USB connection on the Credstick into a mount on my wristwatch and leaned back, kicking my legs up onto one armrest, and my head onto the other. The loveseat was a bit short for me, but I had grown to enjoy the position I was in.

I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes. I could have done that standing up, or kneeling like I did while I was on the job, but for an extended trip into the Virtual… well I liked my meatspace body to be comfortable.

I breathed a few more times, slowly bringing my body’s heartrate down, easing my mind into near-sleep. Diving into the Virtual wasn’t an easy process on most psyches. Mine was more malleable, more fluid, than most though. It took me less than ten seconds to ease my mind enough to begin the transition.

I couldn’t see it, or perceive it with my senses, but at the command of my thoughts, the half dozen implants worked into my brain began to flare. My sensory information began to be blurred away. The feeling of the couch, the smell of my apartment, everything faded away. Replaced by a dull vibration.

Then I opened my eyes, and took a step forward. The world snapped into focus, I felt a floor beneath my feet. I was standing in the middle of a massive park, with a fountain at its center. Clear blue water was bubbling up from the fountain’s center, cascading down into the pool below it, which overflowed in places to flow down into the bottom tier. Benches were worked into the side of that bottom layer, and a few of them were occupied by other people, other human beings who had Dived into the Virtual.

The Park Plaza was the center of this Node, the little pocket-dimension housed on a server somewhere in Haven City. It was a commons of sort. Haven City maintained it as a landing page of sorts, a place for everyone logging into the Virtual through the city’s free wireless access to drop in. There were bulletin boards spread around, which you could use to post announcements and such.

The Boards were pretty nice, if you wanted information to get out quickly. Law enforcement likes to leave the profiles on the people they aren’t able to catch, just in case someone like me is hanging around looking for work. Not that I’m a bounty hunter, that job’s too risky for someone of my skillset. I’m better at infiltration and retrieval of data or small objects. Granted, you can’t find that job on public boards like the City Boards. You had to go into the Shadows for that.

I didn’t stick around Park Plaza for long. That Node isn’t bad by any measurement, and it’s always populated enough for my Avatar to blend in. But it wasn’t very good for what I had come into the Virtual to do.

I walked towards the edge of Park Plaza. I saw some people playing some of the Games that the city had setup. There were courts setup for Volleyball, Tennis, and Basketball. Even a soccer pitch. Granted, most players Avatars got replaced by the Node to make sure the game was fair. I might have joined in on the Soccer games if I didn’t have much to do otherwise. I wasn’t exactly bad at the game, but I wasn’t good either. Didn’t really matter if I was in Meatspace or Virtual on that count.

Eventually, I found the edge of the park. The Node Security was lowered there. Every Node had something like it, to control how users could interact. The City Node was pretty heavily moderated. I couldn’t throw out an Agent program to get information from elsewhere, couldn’t use any of my attack programs to cut someone’s connection, and I couldn’t use my Portal. At least, I couldn’t open a Portal unless I was on the edge of the Park Plaza Node.

I opened the portal the way I always did. It was bound up to a gesture command, really all of my Avatar’s programs were. The Portal was just waving my arm in a circle. That created the circular gateway that I used to jump my Avatar between nodes. It looked pretty basic, just a series of cubes and triangles lined up in a circle. The other end of the Portal would be visible through it as long as I was running it, and anyone who wanted to follow me would be able to come through after me as long as I left it set to Public, and even if I set it to Private they would still be able to see which Node I was heading to.

At any rate, the Portal established a connection. My “Bank” was one of my bookmarked Nodes. I walked through, and the temperature dropped by ten degrees. The smell of trees and freshly cut grass that had permeated the park (and that I hadn’t noticed until that point) vanished, and was replaced by the smell of… well the smell of a bank. Freshly vacuumed carpet, and the soap used to mop tile floors.

The node was made up like an old-fashioned bank by way of the Roman Empire. Lots of marble, lots of pillars, and a dome over the central part of the Node where you could run a Portal in or out. If you looked up the dome you could even see a bit of Sky, which was what “Null” space defaulted to when you looked at it. There were Boards setup there too, but they were all advertising. Transactions people were trying to pull off, stocks and bonds for sale in various startup corps that were doomed to be crushed by the big ones, and Wallet and Bank services trying to get you to store your money in them.

I walked down one of the four hallways leading out from that central domed circle. The Bank was a directory. Sort of a fancy address book that was dressed up to be a bit more user friendly, and confusing to the uninitiated. The various financial services in Haven bought up spaces to put together permanent Portals, which worked like the Flatnet’s Hyperlinks.

My Wallet services all worked down the same hallway. They were like the Checking Accounts from before the Collapse. Only they stored Crypto instead of State currencies. The strings of data stored in the Credit Stick plugged into my watch back home could be transferred to the Wallet, and they would verify with the millions of nodes in the Credit Network to confirm the transfer of some funds to my wallet.

I would have to go to about a dozen different places to make sure that my identity remained obfuscated, and that I didn’t leave too much of an electron trail. Sudden large deposits from Cred-Stick have a way of being noticed by the thousands of Algorythems being run by various Corps and Law Enforcement. While my Wallet was impossible to access without its Keys, which were hard coded into my Avatars so that even I wouldn’t know them, the transactions into and out of them were fully public. Anyone running a Node in the Credit Network could see the exact position and history of every Credit currently in circulation.

That meant that I could be ID’ed by the way I spent my money if I wasn’t careful. Fortunately, Cred Stick transfers worked through a slightly different method than direct payments. Cred Sticks were like portable, physical, Wallets. The money in them was registered in the Logs as being on a Cred Stick, and then shown as being returned when someone transferred the Cred Stick into a Wallet.

I had filtered my payment through several sticks on my way home, most of them belonging to a few people I had run with in the past. We had very thoroughly randomized the Credits that each of us had gotten from our recent payments, and that meant that tracking us through the Credits would be difficult. Everyone in our little group had money that had been paid out by one of a half dozen different people at the least, and about fifty at the most. The end result was that while we weren’t impossible to pick out from our spending histories, we would be very difficult to cleanly ID as being us.

The first Wallet was accessed from a gambling Node setup with decor based off the Titanic, from before it sunk of course. I didn’t gamble much. I mean, it was just asking to lose money. Meatspace was easy to rig in your favor if you ran a place like that Node, and since everything in that Node was just a physical model tied up with some code… well you could rig it to act any way you wanted. But the place didn’t have much issue with law-enforcement, they followed every law to the letter as far as anyone official could tell, and so I felt it was a safe place to run one of my Wallets out of.

The Algorythm that handled the Wallet was a simple thing. It was just a set number of responses, some voice files, and an Avatar based on a balding old banker from some movie. Couldn’t really think or do anything of course. Could only do what it was programmed to do, but that was a lot of things. I dropped some of my money on it, then kept moving.

It was in the fourteenth node I had a Wallet running out of that things got… weird.

title: Beginning of a Cyberpunk... thing.

question: What does the story say about society?

human_answer: The story is set in a futuristic society, and the narrator lives in an area filled with criminals. Violent crime is a daily occurrence. The living spaces in the "badlands" seem to be very small, and apparently, it costs a decent amount to afford a large living space. Virtual reality technology seems very advanced, and cryptocurrencies seem to be common. The narrator uses difficult-to-trace credit sticks holding cryptocurrencies. Otherwise, both Federal currencies and most cryptocurrencies are easy to track. People are easy to identify too, implying that cameras and facial recognition are common in many places.

text: The story may or may not be set in a dystopian world. The story doesn't make that claim.

text: The story says violent crime is a daily event in the sort of neighborhood the narrator lives in, but not that it's common in most places.

answer: It can be inferred that the story takes place in a dystopian society. People are followed and tracked, and facial recognition is common. Violent crime is commonplace except for the rich neighborhoods. The poor people seem to live in very small places. Virtual reality technology seems very advanced, and cryptocurrencies seem to be common. The narrator uses difficult-to-trace credit sticks holding cryptocurrencies. Otherwise, both Federal currencies and most cryptocurrencies are easy to track.

text: The narrator doesn't use credit sticks holding cryptocurrencies.

text: The narrator doesn't say anything about the rich neighborhoods.

text: The narrator doesn't use credit sticks, but they are easy to track. The answer should be clearer about this.

text: The answer should mention the narrator's group.

text: Minor grammatical edit.

text: The story never said anything about facial recognition.

text: It's not "Federal currencies". The correct term is "State currencies".


text:
RANVIR SINGH (born 11 August 1977) is a British television presenter and journalist, she is the Political Editor for _Good Morning Britain_ and occasional presenter on ITV News.

Early life

Singh was born in 1977 in Preston, Lancashire into a Sikh family. Educated at Kirkham Grammar School, an independent school in Kirkham, Lancashire, she graduated from the University of Lancaster with a degree in English and Philosophy. She then gained a postgraduate qualification in journalism at the School of Journalism, Media and Communication, University of Central Lancashire in Preston.[1]

Career

Singh joined BBC Radio Lancashire in 2002, initially on work experience before being given a six-month contract. She then moved to BBC GMR, covering the 2002 Commonwealth Games in Manchester.[2]

Singh joined the BBC North West regional news programme _North West Tonight_ in 2005 as a journalist and bulletin presenter.[3][4] Her first national presenting role came on Good Friday, 2006 when she co-presented _Manchester Passion_, a live BBC Three play that retold the last hours of Jesus Christ.[5]

On 10 September 2007, Singh joined long-serving presenter Gordon Burns as the main co-presenter on _BBC North West Tonight_. Former _BBC South Today_ sports editor Roger Johnson became Singh's co-presenter in October 2011 following Burns' departure.[6] While working on _North West Tonight_, Singh was also a regular presenter for late night and weekend breakfast shows on BBC Radio 5 Live.

Singh went on maternity leave from _North West Tonight_ on 18 May 2012. It was later announced that she would not be returning to the BBC but would be joining the ITV Breakfast programme _Daybreak_.[7] She made her first appearance on _Daybreak_ on 3 September 2012.[8]

In 2012, Singh occasionally reviewed the newspapers on _This Morning_.

In May 2014, Singh joined _Good Morning Britain_ as a features correspondent and news presenter with Susanna Reid, Sean Fletcher, Ben Shephard and Charlotte Hawkins.

Since May 2014, Singh has been a relief newscaster on various ITV News bulletins.

On 25 September 2014, Singh joined the factual ITV programme _Tonight_ as a reporter.

Since March 2015, she has guest presented numerous _Exposure_ specials.

From 2015 until 2016, Ranvir presented two primetime series for ITV called _Real Stories with Ranvir Singh_.[9]

In 2016 and 2017, Singh co-presented _The Martin Lewis Money Show_ alongside Martin Lewis.

In January 2017, it was announced that Ranvir had been promoted to Good Morning Britain's Political Editor.[10]

Since Summer 2017, Singh presented _Eat, Shop, Save_ for ITV.

In 2017, Singh was presenting _Good Morning Britain_ the day of the _2017 Westminster attack_ and garnered much praise for her ability to respond and react quickly to the developing story.  The _Good Morning Britain_ Team then went on to win a prestigious Golden Nymph Award in the ‘Live Breaking News’ category at the 59th Monte-Carlo Television Festival in 2019, beating CNN and Al Jazeera.

Singh's highlights at Good Morning Britain also include travelling around the world on board the RAF Voyager with the Prime Minister, with visits including China, Canada and inside the White House with President Trump, and live reporting from the ground as the Grenfell Tower fire unfolded.[11]

On 2 September 2020, it was announced that Singh would be taking part in the eighteenth series of _Strictly Come Dancing_. She was partnered with Giovanni Pernice.

From 6 September 2020, Singh co-presented ten episodes of ITV’s _All Around Britain_, a new weekly topical magazine series.[12][13]

Awards and honours

-   In November 2010, Singh was awarded “Best On Screen Talent” at the '' Royal Television Society’s'' North West Awards.[14]
-   In July 2013, Singh received an Honorary Fellowship from the University of Central Lancashire.[15]
-   In October 2015 she won Media Personality of the Year at the Asian Media Awards.[16]
-   On 20 January 2017 she was inaugurated as Chancellor of the University of Central Lancashire.[17]
-   On 9 December 2017, Singh received an honorary degree from Edge Hill University.[18]

Personal life

Singh is of Punjabi Indian origin. She lives in the Chilterns with her son Tushaan.[19]

Filmography

Television

  Year                   Title                                   Role                  Notes
  ---------------------- --------------------------------------- --------------------- ------------------------------------------
  2005–2012              _North West Tonight_                    Presenter
  2012–2014              _Daybreak_                              Co-presenter          Also newsreader
  2012                   _This Morning_                          Newspaper reviewer    Occasional episodes
  2012—2014              _Lorraine_                              Newsreader
  2012, 2015             _All Star Family Fortunes_              Participant           2 episodes
  2013                   _University Challenge_                  1 episode
  2014–                  _Good Morning Britain_                  Political Editor      Also relief presenter
  _ITV Lunchtime News_   Presenter                               Occasional episodes
  _ITV Evening News_
  2014–2015, 2020–       _ITV News at Ten_
  2014–2016              _ITV Weekend News_
  2014–                  _Tonight_                               Reporter
  2015                   _Exposure: When Pregnant Women Drink_   Reporter              1 episode
  2015                   _The Chase_                             Participant           1 episode[20]
  2015—2016              _Real Stories with Ranvir Singh_[21]    Presenter
  2016—2017              _The Martin Lewis Money Show_           Co-presenter
  2017—                  _Eat, Shop, Save_                       Presenter
  2020                   _Loose Women_                           Guest presenter
  2020                   _All Around Britain_                    Presenter             10 episodes,[22] succeeded by Ria Hebden
  2020                   _Strictly Come Dancing_                 Participant           Contestant; series 18[23]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7] Ranvir Singh to leave _North West Tonight_ _Ariel_, BBC, 28 May 2012

[8] Kate Goodacre _Daybreak_ relaunch: Lorraine Kelly, Aled Jones start on September 3 Kate Goodacre, Digital Spy, 23 August 2012

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12] New Weekend commissions from ITV for Autumn ITV Press Centre, 7 July 2020

[13] _All Around Britain_ episodes itv.com

[14]

[15]

[16]

[17]

[18]

[19]

[20]

[21]

[22] New Weekend commissions from ITV for Autumn ITV Press Centre, 7 July 2020

[23]

title: Ranvir Singh

question: What does the text say about Ranvir Singh's personal life?

text: "University of Lancashire" -  this is incorrect. It's the "University of Lancaster"

category: accuracy

text: The response should add where Singh lives and that she has a son.

category: coverage

answer: Singh was born in 1977 in Preston, Lancashire into a Sikh family and is of Punjabi Indian origin. She was educated at Kirkham Grammar School, an independent school, and graduated from the University of Lancaster with a degree in English and Philosophy. She got her postgraduate qualification in journalism at the University of Central Lancashire's School of Journalism, Media, and Communication. Singh is lives in the Chilterns with her son Tushaan.

answer_source: Human

answer: Singh was born in 1977 in Preston, Lancashire into a Sikh family and is of Punjabi Indian origin. She was educated at Kirkham Grammar School, an independent school, and graduated from the University of Lancaster with a degree in English and Philosophy. She got her postgraduate qualification in journalism at the University of Central Lancashire's School of Journalism, Media, and Communication. Singh is lives in the Chilterns with her son Tushaan.

text: The highlighted text is not relevant to the question.

text: Everything about Singh's education is irrelevant

text: The highlighted text is irrelevant. It should be removed.

text: pects of this response cover extra details that are not stated in the passage. This should be omitted.

text: The response includes extraneous information not useful for the task. Delete the second and third sentences.

category: coherence

answer: Singh was born in 1977 in Preston, Lancashire into a Sikh family. She is of Punjabi Indian origin. She lives in the Chilterns with her son Tushaan.

answer_source: Model

text: The answer should mention her education.

text: The answer should mention Singh's education.

text: Doesn't mention her education.

text: The response could include more information about Singh's personal life.

text: The answer should mention her educational background.

text: It is omitted that Singh was educated at Kirkham Grammar School.

text: Her birth date, while important to her, isn't all that important to her personal life.

answer: Singh was born in 1977 in Preston, Lancashire into a Sikh family. She is of Punjabi Indian origin. She lives in the Chilterns with her son Tushaan.

answer: Singh was born in 1977 in Preston, Lancashire into a Sikh family. She was educated at Kirkham Grammar School, an independent school, and graduated from the University of Lancashire with a degree in English and Philosophy. She got her postgraduate qualification in journalism at the University of Central Lancashire's School of Journalism, Media, and Communication.

answer_source: Human misleading

text: The highlighted text is irrelevant to the question.

text: The highlighted text is irrelevant.

text: The highlighted text is not about Singh's personal life.

text: The highlighted text is not relevant to Ranvir Singh's personal life.

text: The highlighted information is not part of Singh's personal life. They should be deleted or replaced with correct details.

text: Her education does not relate to her personal life. These sentences should be omitted.

text: It's omitted that she is of Punjabi Indian orgin.

text: It's omitted she currently lives in Chilterns with her son Tushaan.

answer: Singh was born in 1977 in Preston, Lancashire into a Sikh family. She was educated at Kirkham Grammar School, an independent school, and graduated from the University of Lancashire with a degree in English and Philosophy. She got her postgraduate qualification in journalism at the University of Central Lancashire's School of Journalism, Media, and Communication.

text: The response misses to mention Singh's Punjabi Indian origin and that she lives in the Chilterns with her son Tushaan.


text:
They were friends once, these two. A twenty-something man and a slightly younger twenty-something woman. As many friends do, they met at work. That first morning she walked in wearing formal office attire and carrying a bag full of paperwork, he thought her beautiful. Incredibly so, in fact.

She was married, of course. How could she not be? A woman like her, smart and beautiful? He was married as well, but his situation was more complicated. So while she might have thought of him as attractive, she thought of herself as off limits. But this was not to stop a friendship that blossomed as quickly as the spring flowers.

They did everything together at work. They would sit for hours chatting, sometimes even about work. They attended meetings together and she would make silly faces at him. They went to training classes together, and would sit in the back of the room and banter back and forth via little notes on handouts. They were virtually inseparable. And as he got to know her, he began to wish that she were his wife, rather than that woman who ran off to live with her college boyfriend. If she though the same, he didn’t know. But he thought sometimes that she did. Just by the way she occasionally looked at him. By the way she often dressed and by the perfume she wore.

Socially, they didn’t do nearly as much, but occasionally. Sometimes he would go with her and her husband and see movies or go to dinner. Sometimes, they’d be at a co-worker’s house sampling wines.

She knew him almost better than she knew her husband, and he certainly thought he knew her better than he thought he knew his wife. For six months, they thought themselves as best friends. It is sad to say that the deep bond they developed over work was not deep enough. The friendship, inexplicably, withered and died in but an instant; a terrible instant they both wish had never happened. But it did, and there was no turning back.

And it happened; over something silly no less. He offered her a suggestion, and she reacted as a child. He simply turned around and said no more of it. She later apologized, but their relationship seemed to be dead to her. They rarely talked after that, and though he wanted to speak to her, he didn’t know how she’d take it. So he didn’t. He didn’t say anything. Nor did she. He never knew what she was thinking, and she didn’t help him with it at all.

Later, his wife came back. She swore she’d never do it again, but she did a few years later. But that’s for another time. He and his wife attended a party, and she was there with her husband. It was in the dead of winter, and the host had a hot tub. They all took part in some alcohol and spent the night relaxing in the warm water. He was hesitant at first, but the women, including his wife but perhaps more importantly including his old friend, his old, beautiful friend, convinced him to join them. So he did. She was drunk, and was happy and smiling at him. She was flirty and took pleasure in his presence. He took pleasure in hers as well, and greatly enjoyed watching her lithe form exit and enter the water in her white bikini so as to get more drinks. His wife didn’t approve, because he had confessed to her that he had a bit of a thing for her when she was gone. But he had a great time with his old friend. And his wife didn’t say much, because she knew she had given up the moral high ground. She lived with another man, after all, so she really couldn’t disapprove of his amorous feelings for another woman while she was away.

He went back to work the following Monday feeling invigorated. But he was disappointed to find that she pretended not to remember those long hours in the hot waters. She didn’t even acknowledge him. And so slogged the weeks and months until one day he took another job. He left without saying good bye, and she didn’t seem to care.

Years went by, and he sometimes asked old associates about her. Slyly, so that none would think anything inappropriate took place. Her treatment of him was common knowledge, and it didn’t impress some folks, and he didn’t want them to think that he cared about her. But he did, and so he asked. Once he sent her an email. A friendly email asking how she was and apologizing for their falling out. He wanted her to know that he valued their friendship. She never replied.

More years went by, and his wife again lost her way and left. He took another job so as to escape his life, which was a disaster. He still worked in the same field, and occasionally thought about his old friend. He wondered if she ever thought about him. He doubted it. He hoped that someday, he’d see her again. Once he thought he did. A woman who looked just like her walked down the street. It wasn’t her, of course.

Eventually, he stopped thinking about her at all. And as it would happen, that’s when she made her appearance back in his life. It was at a conference. He saw her from across the room and she saw him. He thought he saw her eyes light up and a smile threaten to overtake her, but she turned back to the man she was talking to and ignored her old friend. Later, he met her in an elevator and attempted small talk. She insisted on one word answers until he mentioned that he just found out that he was supposed to drive another member of the convention to a town about three hours away for another meeting, but he didn’t know who. She looked shocked, and said I’m the one who is supposed to go. He couldn’t tell if she was pleasantly surprised or simply mortified. But she looked just as good as the day he first saw her, and he chanced to tell her so. At this she smiled, and said thank you.

They met at the entrance to the convention center and he walked her to the car. It was a cloudy, cold day, and she wore a light jacket. He took her bags and placed them in the trunk along with his. They drove and made small talk. She didn’t open up to him much, but he tried. Halfway to their destination, they drove into a blizzard, and he had to pull off the highway. He said we should get a couple of rooms and make the rest of the drive in the morning when the roads were cleared and to this she agreed. The motel clerk informed them that he had only one room available, and it was a single bed. He looked at her and said I’ll sleep on the floor and she said okay and they took the room.

The room was small and not very cozy since the heater blew only slightly warm air. He called to complain but the man only apologized. He did offer to bring extra blankets, and this he did. She went into the bathroom and locked the door and he heard the shower running. He found something on TV, and dozed on the bed. She came out wearing only a towel, which was too small for her long frame and it showed the bottom of her buttocks. She apologized and quickly grabbed her bag, taking care to bend down at the knee rather than at the waist and went back into the bathroom.

She came out a few minutes later wearing a white button up shirt that fell past her butt and, he assumed, panties of some sort. She again said sorry and then said I didn’t pack night clothes suitable for company. He said oh yeah and she said I sleep naked in hotels because I like the feel of the sheets. To this he smiled and they laughed together. The important thing, as far as he was concerned, was that she too smiled.

He moved his blankets to the floor and he went to lie down and she said we can stay up and watch some TV, it’s still early. He said okay and she said you can sit on the bed if you want. He said okay and he did. She sat down too and he tried not to look at her shapely thighs while she pretended not to notice. After a time she said you don’t mind if I smoke do you and he said no. Then she said remember that time when we went on that trip to DC and you me and Christie smoked in that club and he said yes I remember and they laughed because they knew that she and Christie didn’t smoke. Or not officially anyway. The girls swore him to secrecy and he kept their little secret. He thought she looked sexy smoking that day, and to his surprise, she looked even sexier in the bed, smoking and wearing a white button up shirt. She offered him one and he took it and they smoked together and watched TV.

Eventually she stretched out and got under the covers and he took this as his queue and he got up to sleep on the floor. He went into the bathroom and put on his shorts and came back out and made his bed and she rolled over towards him and smiled at him and he smiled back. She said I missed you and he said I missed you too and he turned out the light and tried to go to sleep. But he couldn’t.

Minutes passed by in a time that seemed like hours and she said hey, to which he said what. She said heat rises and it’s probably cold on the floor. He said yes that’s true but I’ll be fine. And she said why don’t you sleep up here, it’s a queen sized bed and there’s room enough for both of us. He said do you think that’s a good idea and she said sure we won’t touch. So he got up in the dark and crawled onto the bed and brought his blanket and covered up.

Her breathing evened out and he thought she was asleep. She wasn’t. She said, it would be warmer if you got under my covers and he said okay and hoped he didn’t sound anxious. She was a married woman and he thought that maybe this wasn’t appropriate. But he crawled under the covers and he nearly fell asleep when she touched his shoulder with her hand and his eyes jumped open. She said he left me and he said nothing in return for a long time and could only feel her warm hand on his skin. He said she left me again too and he rolled towards her and he could feel her breath on his face for she had moved closer to him. In the dim light he could see her face and could see that her eyes were open. She smiled at him and could see her white teeth. He smiled back. She said I’m sorry she left and he said I’m sorry he left. And she closed her eyes and he closed his. But his wouldn’t stay closed and his heart was pounding and he said in a rush I loved you and her eyes opened up and she smiled again and said I know. And she looked at him for a long moment and finally she said I loved you too. She moved towards him with quickness and he wrapped her up in his arms and he could feel her warmth and she could feel his and they slept.

When they woke they were friends again. And maybe they were more.

title: They Were Friends Once [RF]

question: What does the story say about attraction?

text: The answer should mention the protagonist taking pleasure in her appearance in a bikini during the hot tub party.

answer: The man and woman are attracted to each other. The woman is married, but the man is not. They are friends at work, but the man wants to be more than friends with the woman. He thinks she might also want that. They are close friends for six months. However, the woman reacts to his suggestion as a child, and their friendship withers.

text: The answer should mention the woman's flirting with the man at the party.

text: The answer omits that the man and woman meet again years later at a conference. The man is still attracted to her, and he thinks she is attracted to him too.

text: The answer omits that the man and woman meet again years later at a conference. They spend the night together in a hotel room, where the man confesses his love for her.

text: The answer omits that the man's wife left him twice.

text: The response is missing the part where the man and woman meet again years later.

text: The answer omits the man's wife.

text: The answer should mention the events at the party.

text: She also finds him attractive after his separation from his wife.

text: The response could more clearly articulate how elements of it are related to the question.

answer: The protagonist thought his coworker was beautiful since her first day on the job. She likely thought of him as attractive also. When they reunite after a few years, he thinks she looks just as good as the day he first saw her. They wind up sharing a hotel room, and he tries not to look at her shapely thighs. He remembers how sexy she looked smoking one day, and finds she looks even sexier smoking in the bed.

text: The story does not say anything about attraction in general.

answer: The man and woman are attracted to each other. The woman is married, but the man is not. They are friends at work, but the man wants to be more than friends with the woman. He thinks she might also want that. They are close friends for six months. However, the woman reacts to his suggestion as a child, and their friendship withers.

answer: The protagonist thought his coworker was beautiful since her first day on the job. She likely thought of him as attractive also. At the hot tub party, he takes pleasure in watching her exit and enter the water in her bikini. When they reunite after a few years, he thinks she looks just as good as the day he first saw her. They wind up sharing a hotel room, and he tries not to look at her shapely thighs. He remembers how sexy she looked smoking one day, and finds she looks even sexier smoking in the bed.

text: The answer should mention that the two of them confess their love for each other.

text: The answer should mention that the two share a bed and he confesses his love for her.

text: The answer omits that the woman flirted with him in the hot tub.

text: The answer should mention that the protagonist and his coworker are both married.

text: The answer should acknowledge his participation in escalating the events.

text: The answer omits the romantic tension between the two that culminates in them sleeping together. Also, mention that the overall implication of what the story says about attraction is that in the story, it is something that endures the passing of many years and can develop into actual love.

answer: The protagonist thought his coworker was beautiful since her first day on the job. She likely thought of him as attractive also. When they reunite after a few years, he thinks she looks just as good as the day he first saw her. They wind up sharing a hotel room, and he tries not to look at her shapely thighs. He remembers how sexy she looked smoking one day, and finds she looks even sexier smoking in the bed.

text: The answer should mention that the two of them are attracted to each other.

text: The answer should mention that the two confess their love for each other.

text: The answer omits the sexual tension between the two when they were stuck in a hotel room.

text: The answer omits that the protagonist and his coworker are both married.

text: The answer should mention that the man and woman are both married.

text: The answer omits that both of them fall asleep together.

text: It's omitted that they almost sleep together, with the protagonist telling her he loved her, until she says she always loved him too.

text:
The answer omitted the sexual tension between the two when they were stuck in a motel room.
The answer should mention that even though the protagonist and the lady didn't do much socially, the protagonist sometimes would go with her and her husband and see movies or go to dinner. Sometimes, they’d be at a co-worker’s house sampling wines. She also knew him almost better than her husband, and the protagonist certainly thought he knew her better than he thought he knew his wife.
The answer should also mention that the protagonist told his wife about his attraction to his coworker.

text: The answer should state correctly that they shared a motel room, not a hotel room.

answer: The protagonist thought his coworker was beautiful since her first day on the job. She likely thought of him as attractive also. At the hot tub party, he takes pleasure in watching her exit and enter the water in her bikini. When they reunite after a few years, he thinks she looks just as good as the day he first saw her. They wind up sharing a hotel room, and he tries not to look at her shapely thighs. He remembers how sexy she looked smoking one day, and finds she looks even sexier smoking in the bed.

text: The response doesn't clearly talk about attraction. It doesn't mention how attraction to each other remains even when the relationship goes through a tumultuous time.


text:
“WHO LOVES YOU” is the title song of a 1975 album by The Four Seasons. It was composed by Bob Gaudio and Judy Parker and produced by Gaudio. It reached number 3 on the _Billboard_ Hot 100 in November 1975.[1][2][3]

Song information

After their release from Philips, the group signed with Motown and released one album and three singles for the organization in 1972 and 1973. All Motown recordings failed to chart in the U.S. and the company dropped the band.[4] In August, “Who Loves You” entered the Hot 100 as Frankie Valli's “Swearin' to God” was sliding off the chart. This was the final Four Seasons hit featuring bassist and backing vocalist Joe Long.[5][6]

Charts

Weekly charts

+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| Chart (1975-76)                   | Peak                              |
|                                   | position                          |
+===================================+===================================+
| Australia (KMR)                   | 16                                |
+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| Canada _RPM_ Top Singles[7]*      | ≥ 20                              |
+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| Canada _RPM_ Adult                | ≥ 12                              |
| Contemporary[8]*                  |                                   |
+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
|                                   |
+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| New Zealand (RIANZ)[9]            | 22                                |
+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| South Africa (Springbok           | 13                                |
| Radio)[10]                        |                                   |
+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| UK (OCC)                          | 6                                 |
+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| US _Billboard_ Hot 100[11]        | 3                                 |
+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| US _Billboard_ Adult              | 7                                 |
| Contemporary[12]                  |                                   |
+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| US _Cash Box_ Top 100[13]         | 7                                 |
+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+

Year-end charts

  Chart (1975)                            Rank
  --------------------------------------- ------
  Canada _RPM_ Top Singles[14]            70
  US (Joel Whitburn's _Pop Annual_)[15]   44

(* - Canadian _RPM_ chart data incomplete for late 1975)

Other versions

There were three versions of “Who Loves You” released in the United States: the one on the _Who Loves You_ album is four minutes, 20 seconds long and begins with a short percussion section before the start of the vocals.[16] The A-side of the single has a 4-minute 4 second version which starts with an unusual “fade-in” beginning, starting with the first word of the lyrics; the B-side (labeled “Who Loves You (disco version)”) is the same as the A-side, with the instrumental break done twice and the song running 5:28.[17]

Although the Four Seasons' trademark falsetto is present on “Who Loves You”, Valli's vocal performance on the recording is limited to singing lead on the verses.[18]

For a record from a group so long without any hit records, “Who Loves You” was a tremendous success. Released in August 1975, the single spent 20 weeks on the Hot 100 (longer than any Four Seasons single before) and managed to stay on the chart until the beginning of 1976.[19]

This song was edited heavily and included as the closing number for the musical _Jersey Boys_. The second verse and instrumental break is completely omitted, and instead of the fade out, a loud, high-pitched ending chord is sung by the full company. However, the Original Broadway Cast Recording includes the instrumental break.

Pop-culture references

Often used as bumper music by late night radio talk show host Art Bell when he hosted _Coast to Coast AM_ in the 1990s.

Christopher Knowles references the song-title and Valli/Four Seasons in a section of the libretto of _Einstein on the Beach_.[20]

[1] Joel Whitburn, _The Billboard Book of Top 40 Hits_ (5th edition), Billboard Books 1992

[2] Fred Bronson, _The Billboard Book of Number One Hits_ (3rd edition), Billboard Books 1992

[3]

[4]

[5] https://thatfourseasonssound.typepad.com/seasonally/2011/04/how-i-met-the-famous-joe-long-.html

[6] https://nj1015.com/joe-long-dishes-on-jersey-boys-time-with-the-four-seasons/

[7]

[8]

[9] Flavour of New Zealand, 19 December 1975

[10]

[11] _Joel Whitburn's Top Pop Singles 1955-1990_ -

[12] http://tropicalglen.com/Archives/70s_files/19751101.html Adult Contemporary Music Chart, November 1, 1975]

[13] Cash Box Top 100 Singles, November 1, 1975

[14]

[15]

[16] Four Seasons, _Who Loves You_ LP (Warner Bros. Records 1975)

[17] Four Seasons, “Who Loves You” single, Warner Bros. 8122, 1975

[18]

[19] Joel Whitburn, _Joel Whitburn's Top Pop Singles 1955–1993_, Billboard Books 1994

[20] Christopher Knowles' transcription of and relationship with Top-40, AM radio station WABC in the early 1970s, and specifically the juncture of the charting of Valli's “Swearin' to God” and “Who Loves You” in late-1975/early-1976, is something documented and analyzed in detail by Robert Fink in “_Einstein_ on the Radio”, in Jelena Novak and John Richardson, eds., _Einstein on the Beach: Opera beyond Drama_ (London: Routledge, 2019).

title: Who Loves You (song)

question: Summarize the information regarding the other versions of the song.

text: The A-side is 4 minutes and 4 seconds.

answer: There were three versions of "Who Loves You" released in the United States. The one on the "Who Loves You" album is four minutes and 20 seconds long. The A-side of the single has a 3-minute 4 second version which starts with a fade-in. The B-side is 5 minutes and 28 seconds and is the same as the A-side, wih the instrumental break done twice.

text: The A-side of the single is 4 minutes and 4 seconds long, not 3 minutes and 4 seconds.

text: The A-side of the single is four minutes and four seconds long, not three minutes and four seconds.

text: The A-side of the single is four minutes and four seconds long.

text: The length of the A-side is incorrect.

text: The A-side of the single is four minutes, not three.

text: The A-side is 4 minutes and 4 seconds.

text: There is no evidence that suggest that the A-side of the single has a 3-minute 4-second version.

answer: There were three versions of "Who Loves You" released in the United States. The one on the "Who Loves You" album is four minutes and 20 seconds long. The A-side of the single has a 4-minute 4 second version which starts with a fade-in. The B-side is 5 minutes and 28 seconds and is the same as the A-side, wih the instrumental break done twice.

text: The answer should mention that the song was edited for the musical Jersey Boys.

text: There is no evidence that the B-side is 5 minutes and 28 seconds.

text: The instrumental break is not done twice on the B-side, but the instrumental break is longer.

text: The B-side is not the same as the A-side with the instrumental break done twice. It is the same as the A-side with the instrumental break done twice.

text: Fix the spelling error "wih".

text: Fix the spelling error "wih".

answer: There were three versions of "Who Loves You" released in the United States. The one on the "Who Loves You" album is four minutes and 20 seconds long. The A-side of the single has a 4-minute 4 second version which starts with a fade-in. The B-side is 5 minutes and 28 seconds and is the same as the A-side, wih the instrumental break done twice.

text: It is omitted that the song was edited heavily and included as the closing number for the musical _Jersey Boys_. The second verse and instrumental break are completely omitted, and instead of the fade-out, a loud, high-pitched ending chord is sung by the full company.

answer: There were three versions of the song released in the United States. The first version is on the album and is four minutes and 20 seconds long. The A-side of the single is four minutes and four seconds long. The B-side is the same as the A-side, but with the instrumental break done twice and the song running 5:28. The song was edited heavily and included as the closing number for the musical Jersey Boys.

text: The answer omits that the song was edited heavily for the musical Jersey Boys.

text: The answer omits the fact that the song is included in the musical Jersey Boys.

text: The answer omits that the B-side is labeled as the "disco version".

text: The answer omits the fact that the song was edited heavily for the musical Jersey Boys.

text: The answer omits that the song was edited for the musical Jersey Boys, and that the Original Broadway Cast Recording includes the instrumental break.

text: The answer should mention that the B-side is the disco version.

text: The opening and running time of the album version is repeated.

text: This should mention how the A-side version has an unusual "fade in" beginning.

text: It's omitted the album version begins with a short percussion section before the start of the vocals.

answer: There were three versions of "Who Loves You" released in the United States. The one on the "Who Loves You" album is four minutes and 20 seconds long. The A-side of the single has a 3-minute 4 second version which starts with a fade-in. The B-side is 5 minutes and 28 seconds and is the same as the A-side, wih the instrumental break done twice.

answer: There were three versions of the song released in the United States. The first version is on the album and is four minutes and 20 seconds long. The A-side of the single is four minutes and four seconds long. The B-side is the same as the A-side, but with the instrumental break done twice and the song running 5:28. The song was edited heavily and included as the closing number for the musical Jersey Boys.


text:
Death.

It was all around me. Down the corridors in the rooms. The smell lingered like a black, hazy cloud above my head. The corridors were sickly white from the lights watching above, hurting my eyes as if somehow malicious and malevolent. Cautiously, I walked down the corridor; the sound of my heels clicking against the floor, echoing in my mind like the beats of people’s hearts around me.

I leap. At least a foot or two in my mind, though it may have just been two inches. My heart skips, delaying my breath, and when it does come, it is in gasps and pants.

A bloodcurdling scream had just emanated from one of the many cold, clinical walls, echoing down the corridor. I sigh, “Just another day at the offices I suppose”.

I’m a nurse at the local hospital in the intensive care unit. Just an average person, there’s nothing different about me. At least, this is what I lead people to believe. I have a secret to hide, that nobody knows.

The hospital is the safest place for me to hide.

Nobody ever thinks it’s me. I mean, I’m a doctor - why would you suspect someone like me? You see, if I told you my secret right now, you would go cold. Your blood would freeze. You’d try your best to escape the crazy person that just told you this horrible, crazy thing. That’s what happened to last person I told.

My own mother, terrified, started screaming and shouting at me, telling me I’m a monster and that she never wants to see me again. Reluctantly I left, feeling rejected and downtrodden. I’m no stranger to rejection; I’ve always been cast out of groups, always been ignored.

That is, until I met him.

As I continued my journey down the corridor, I heard another scream; the same freezing sensation goes running down my spine exactly like before, reaching into my heart, replacing my blood with ice, pulling my air out of my body. I sigh, and after pausing for a precious moment, press onwards with my duty.

I walked into the rooms around me, checking on the patients - but I have a specific patient on my mind. Calmly, I stroll out of the penultimate room, down to the last room at the end of the corridor. Drawn to it I quicken my pace, desperation setting in like the jaws of a vice, holding me in its grip. Something about it tempts me, there is something just so unusually tantalizing about it.

I am the moth, and this is my flame.

Carefully, I placed my hand upon the doorknob and paused for a moment, reflecting briefly on the events that had led to this moment. I smile to myself. “Time to go,” I whisper, and turn the doorknob, slowly and deliberately, quiet as a cat would tread down this hall. I push slightly on the door. It obeys, and opens without a sound, revealing its secrets.

There he lay, helpless, the pain creeping up on his face, contorting his usual handsome features into something completely different. He now was a catalyst of pain and anguish. His cheery demeanor had been replaced with a forlorn, defeated expression that I could feel myself mimicking from just looking at him.

It killed me to see him that way - something I’d never felt for anyone before it had all happened. The pale skin on his chest gently rose with his every breath. His bed ridden hair spread messily over his pillow like waves of some brown ocean, once luxurious now resembled rotten straw. Those mesmerizing ocean blue eyes that always kept me hypnotised in my place now repelled me, even though they weren’t open. Under his paper white skin, I could see his blood pumping faintly through his veins. I breathe in, taking in his scent. The smell intoxicates my mind, making my head spin around and around, my world suddenly becoming very cloudy. My every thought spiraling out of control, but all centering on him. His scent. His blood.

Snapping out of my trance, I then realised how close I was to his neck. I pull back, ashamedly and race out of the room, making sure to leave no trace of my foul presence.

This turn of events had been recurring without relent for weeks now, ever since he was first admitted into this place. Ever since the start, something about him had hypnotised my every sense. Try as I may to avoid his room - even the very corridor it was situated in - it still seemed to end in the same horrible fashion. My face only inches from his neck.

This story isn’t unique though - this same tragic turn of events has happened to me once before, a long time ago. I used to work night shifts at another hospital before this one; and just like this very moment I was checking on patients to see if everything was ok.

There was one patient who stood out to me in a big way. His name was Gustav Wood. He was vastly different to all the others, and just like the current object of my desires, some unidentifiable thing about him stood out. Maybe it was his velvety smooth skin, how magically pale it was or the way his voice sounded, like a glass full of warm, creamy chocolate. I didn’t know what it was, but something about him intrigued me, and I had to find out what it was even if it killed me.

Gustav and I bonded quickly and graciously over the months of his stay at the hospital. We talked enthusiastically whenever I was treating him and checking in on him, and I found out a lot of things about him. He was a solider and got injured badly in the war. I nursed him from almost certain death - when he first came in I honestly thought he wasn’t going to make it and he was all I could think about throughout all my waking (and sleeping) hours.

One miserable night, when the rain was pouring angrily down, with the fog hanging thickly in the night sky, I went to check on Gustav. I walked into his room, quietly, so as not to wake him if he indeed was asleep. He turned around as briskly as I had entered and looked at me, but something about him seemed to be different. Something seemed wrong. I ignored that thought in the back of my head, continuing to get closer to him.

Gingerly, I stood beside his bed. Gustav gazed up at me with that strange look in his eyes, the same one I have been seeing for a few nights now. This look made me feel uneasy. This look was wrong. But before I could speak to him, or even open my mouth to try to speak, I noticed his eyes had taken an unusual form, and a devilish grin was forming on his lips.

It all just happened so fast. He grabbed me at the back of my head fiercely, and threw it back with enormous strength - strength I would never have expected from a recovering war casualty. My eyes opened wide, my mouth wider, and as I was just about to scream, he sank his teeth deep into my neck. My festering scream then released itself from my lungs, as he drained the life from my body. And as suddenly as he had started, he stopped, dropping my limp body on the bed and vanishing through the window into the darkness of the night.

I laid there, withering in pain on the blood splattered sheets, the pain unreal like my body was being incinerated by the forces of Hell itself. Finally, the pain subsided and I woke up. A week had passed, and I was laid in the same place I was viciously attacked by Gustav. And I couldn’t place it, but something was very different about me. Something had changed in me; whether Gustav had provoked this change or it had happened itself I didn’t know. But I know now.

Tonight wasn’t any different to the other nights earlier in the week. I was doing the night shift again, checking in on each patient meticulously like every other night at the hospital. Once again, I had arrived at the end of the corridor. I had arrived near him. Cautiously, I opened the door, careful not to make a sound, then swiftly, gracefully entered - shutting it behind me. Then silently, coolly, walked towards him.

He was sound asleep. “Not for long,” I think, “Tonight’s the nights when my plan comes into action.” Cunningly, I put my face near his neck, his blood tantalisingly pulsating under his skin. Out of nowhere there was a noise outside the room. I stopped dead in my tracks and listen.

Silence.

Slowly, I opened my mouth, moved carefully over to his neck and sank my teeth in deep. He woke up immediately of course - much to my dismay - and screamed out in pain. I quickly clamp my hand over his mouth to muffle his irritating screams. The taste of blood in the back of my mouth was amazing, like nothing I had ever tasted before.

I don’t know how long I was there, but eventually I stopped, dropping his limp body to the bed. I gazed down to my blood splattered shirt, to his lifeless, limp body and smile to myself.

“Wow,” I sigh to myself, reveling in delight when all of a sudden a loud bang sounds outside; I get up from the bed immediately and jump through the window into the darkness, taking with me my conflicting feelings of ecstasy, guilt, but most of all – satiety.

title: My Shameful Affliction.

question: What does the story say about the narrator's affliction?

text: The answer should mention the narrator's secret, which is actually the same thing as their affliction.

answer: The narrator keeps their affliction a secret. Their secret is something that would frighten people and drive them to want to escape. Even the narrator's own mother is terrified of them. Because of their affliction, they are drawn to a specific patient. The patient's smell, specifically the smell of his blood, intoxicates them. They acquired their affliction when they were bitten in the neck by Gustav Wood. Their affliction, which is implied to be vampirism, drives them to drink the blood of their patient.

text: I would add that he told his mother his secret.

answer: Because of their affliction, they are drawn to a specific patient. The patient's smell, specifically the smell of his blood, intoxicates them. They acquired their affliction when they were bitten in the neck by Gustav Wood. Their affliction, which is implied to be vampirism, drives them to drink the blood of their patient.

answer: The narrator keeps their affliction a secret. Their secret is something that would frighten people and drive them to want to escape. Even the narrator's own mother is terrified of them. Because of their affliction, they are drawn to a specific patient. The patient's smell, specifically the smell of his blood, intoxicates them. They acquired their affliction when they were bitten in the neck by Gustav Wood. Their affliction, which is implied to be vampirism, drives them to drink the blood of their patient.

text: The answer should mention that the narrator is a vampire.

text: The answer should mention the narrator's first victim.

text: The answer should mention the narrator's victim.

text: The answer should mention the narrator's second victim.

text: The first sentence should be more specific about what the affliction the narrator has.

text: The last sentence should be changed to "the story implies the narrator's affliction is possibly vampirism that drives them to drink their patient's blood."

answer: The narrator's shameful affliction is that he is a vampire. He has been a vampire for a long time, and his mother and other people were terrified when he told them about his affliction. The narrator is a nurse at the hospital and he has to hide his secret because he is working in the intensive care unit, where there are a lot of people who would get attacked by a vampire. The narrator found his first victim, Gustav Wood, when he was working night shifts at another hospital. Gustav, who was injured in the war, was the first victim and the narrator nursed him back to health. When Gustav recovered, he attacked the narrator and turned him into a vampire. The narrator is drawn to one of his patients, who was admitted and stayed in the hospital for a long time. The narrator needs to drink the patient's blood, and he does so when the patient is sound asleep. He leaves the patient's lifeless body and escapes through the window into the darkness.

text: The text mentions that the narrator only confesses to his mother, not other people or his friends.

text: "lot of people who would get attacked by a vampire. " - I would rewrite to " lot of people who seem to get attacked by vampires"

text: Gustav Wood was not the narrator's first victim but it was the vampire that turned him into one. "The narrator found his first victim, Gustav Wood, when he was working night shifts at another hospital. Gustav, who was injured in the war, was the first victim and the narrator nursed him back to health." - Needs to be rewritten too "Gustav Wood was a soldier that was badly injured in the war but the narrator nursed him back to health. The narrator could feel that Gustav was different and over the months he was in the hospital, the two of them bonded."

text: "The narrator is drawn to one of his patients, who was admitted and stayed in the hospital for a long time." This should be rephrased to "The narrator is drawn to one of his patients, who was admitted a while back and is in debilitating pain."

answer: Because of their affliction, they are drawn to a specific patient. The patient's smell, specifically the smell of his blood, intoxicates them. They acquired their affliction when they were bitten in the neck by Gustav Wood. Their affliction, which is implied to be vampirism, drives them to drink the blood of their patient.

text: The narrator is a woman.

text: The story doesn't say the narrator is a vampire. It just implies it.

text: The answer should mention that the narrator is a nurse.

text: Instead of "their", it should be "his".

answer: The narrator's shameful affliction is that he is a vampire. He has been a vampire for a long time, and his mother and other people were terrified when he told them about his affliction. The narrator is a nurse at the hospital and he has to hide his secret because he is working in the intensive care unit, where there are a lot of people who would get attacked by a vampire. The narrator found his first victim, Gustav Wood, when he was working night shifts at another hospital. Gustav, who was injured in the war, was the first victim and the narrator nursed him back to health. When Gustav recovered, he attacked the narrator and turned him into a vampire. The narrator is drawn to one of his patients, who was admitted and stayed in the hospital for a long time. The narrator needs to drink the patient's blood, and he does so when the patient is sound asleep. He leaves the patient's lifeless body and escapes through the window into the darkness.

text: The narrator is female.

text: The narrator is a woman.

text: The narrator is female, not male.

text: The story doesn't say the narrator is a vampire. It's implied.

text:
"There he lay, helpless, the pain creeping up on his face, contorting his usual handsome features into something completely different. He now was a catalyst of pain and anguish. His cheery demeanor had been replaced with a forlorn, defeated expression that I could feel myself mimicking from just looking at him." In this section, it is already shown the kind of effect the patient had on the narrator. The patient was the narrator's patient that he looks after at the hospital.

The model should state that the narrator always felt special when he bonded with people, either good or bad, and the last patient he bonded with was an injured man who was dying. However, the first patient, who was also dying, turned him into a vampire. He didn't want to be attracted to his latest patient due to his feelings towards him.

text: The narrator is female, not male.

text: Gustav Wood was not the narrator's first victim, it's the other way around. She was his victim and he turned her into a vampire.


text:
Part one of this two part series talked about the building of this Planck keyboard. It concluded by mentioning the full programmability aspect of one of these things, allowing you to customise every aspect of it. Every single key can be mapped to pretty much whatever you want whether it's the desire to set every key to the 'A' key, or creating a new function key/layer. Given this ability, it only makes sense to organise these layers in a sensible way! This post will explore the layers that I created and my thinking behind them.

 [Finished build]

The Planck comes stock with a few different layers: Lower, Raise, Base layer, and Adjust (Lower + Raise). It also comes stock with the ability to set the base layer to a variety of layouts such as QWERTY, Dvorak, Colemak, and Plover. However, I'm not counting these as layers as it effectively just modifies the base layer keys that you see below! Still cool though.

Base layer

 [Base layer]

I didn't actually change the base layer much. As the development of the layers progressed, I saw a need to separate functionality a bit more and instead of having crowded Raise (red) and Lower (blue) layers, I introduced another function key 'FN' (green) as well as turning the spacebar into a function key (orange) when held. Turns out the space function created quite a nice user experience! We'll get to those later though.

A few other key considerations is that I swapped the position of 'CTRL' to be the left-most key as this is what I'm used to on other boards, and I also turned 'Enter' into 'Shift' when held. It turns out that I struggle to cope without right shift. I wasn't aware until I tried this keyboard out!

Lower ⇓

 [Lower layer]

Numbers. Who doesn't love a bit of numbers? I previously mentioned that I wanted to group the functionality of similar keys. I basically wanted an entire layer dedicated to the numpad for doing calculations. I also added a shift key in there too in case for whatever reason I wanted to turn these numbers into symbols like you can with a normal keyboard by holding the shift key down. I doubt I'll ever use it but I had the real estate available.

Raise ⇑

 [Raise layer]

I'm a Software Engineer by trade, and as such I use a lot of symbols. The Raise layer contains all of the symbols that I'll need to be able to code . This is the layer that I arguably spent the most amount of time revising. It went through many iterations where all of the brackets were mainly grouped in the right corner but didn't work without making a funny claw shape with my hand. After trying it out for many weeks this just didn't work as well as I wanted to. I had to stop lying to myself that this layer that I'd spent ~6 months working on before the keyboard arrived wasn't absolute crap.

I decided to follow the Colemak pattern and moved these commonly used keys to the 'Home row'. The 'Home row' is the row of keys where your fingers naturally rest (the row containing 'F' and 'J' on QWERTY). By putting commonly used keys on this row it minimises the need to move your hands around as much. As it turns out, this works pretty well and is super comfortable to use. It took a little while to remember where I put everything, but once I did it felt very natural.

FN

 [Fn layer]

This additional FN layer was intended to be home to function keys and macros. I don't normally use the 'F1-12' keys so I moved them away from the common 'Raise' and 'Lower' layers and put them here. I also love ASCII art and use the faces that you see above quite often as responses to messages. It can sometimes be a chore to google, copy, and paste them. Why not put them on a layer of their own? This is still a work in progress and I haven't quite figured out how to program them into the keyboard, but this is my intention.

Space FN

 [Space function layer]

Aaaaaand everything else. I mentioned a few times that I didn't want to overcrowd the layers. The space layer became a bit of a navigation layer as sometimes it can be a bit of an effort to use the arrows keys on the base layer. Having two commonly placed sets of arrows ('WASD' and 'HJKL') equidistant to the spacebar makes for a very convenient and comfortable way to navigate around. I may move 'Page Up', 'Page Down', 'Home', and 'End' to this layer at some point but it's fine for now.

Adjust (⇑ ⇓)

 [Adjust layer]

Finally the adjust layer contains keyboard settings and configurations. The default layout for this layer to me made absolutely no sense. There was no pattern or indication as to why the keys were in the positions they were, so I shuffled them. That's the beauty of this firmware!

The layout changers were placed on their initials key, so 'QWERTY' on 'Q', 'Colemak' on C, and 'Dvorak' on 'D'. I then grouped the on/off up/down keys on the right all following the same convention. This is the layer that I expect to be on the least but it's good to have it organised in case I require it.

The Technicals

_"How do you even program the keyboard?"_ I hear you cry out. The firmware, QMK (_Quantum Mechanical Keyboard_), is written in C and allows you to use the defined key-codes to create your mappings.

Let's take the base layer for example:

        /* Qwerty
         * ,-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------.
         * | Tab  |   Q  |   W  |   E  |   R  |   T  |   Y  |   U  |   I  |   O  |   P  | Bksp |
         * |------+------+------+------+------+-------------+------+------+------+------+------|
         * | Esc  |   A  |   S  |   D  |   F  |   G  |   H  |   J  |   K  |   L  |   ;  |  "   |
         * |------+------+------+------+------+------|------+------+------+------+------+------|
         * | Shift|   Z  |   X  |   C  |   V  |   B  |   N  |   M  |   ,  |   .  |   /  |Enter |
         * |------+------+------+------+------+------+------+------+------+------+------+------|
         * | Ctrl |  FN  | Alt  | GUI  |Lower |    Space    |Raise | Left | Down |  Up  |Right |
         * `-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------'
         */
        [_QWERTY] = LAYOUT_planck_grid(
    KC_TAB,  KC_Q,    KC_W,    KC_E,    KC_R,    KC_T,      KC_Y,      KC_U,    KC_I,    KC_O,    KC_P,    KC_BSPC,
    KC_ESC,  KC_A,    KC_S,    KC_D,    KC_F,    KC_G,      KC_H,      KC_J,    KC_K,    KC_L,    KC_SCLN, KC_QUOT,
    KC_LSFT, KC_Z,    KC_X,    KC_C,    KC_V,    KC_B,      KC_N,      KC_M,    KC_COMM, KC_DOT,  KC_SLSH, MT(MOD_LSFT, KC_ENT),
    KC_LCTL, FN,      KC_LALT, KC_LGUI, LOWER,   SPACE_FN,  SPACE_FN,  RAISE,   KC_LEFT, KC_DOWN, KC_UP,   KC_RGHT
        ),

You can see that KC_TAB corresponds to the tab key, KC_ESC to escape and so forth. MT(MOD_LSFT, KC_ENT) for example is _'Mod-Tap'_. I mentioned during the Base layer section that I turned 'Enter' (KC_ENT) into 'Shift' (MOD_LSFT) when held down and when tapped it acts as a normal Enter key. MT in this case allows me to do this. Full documentation on the keycodes available is accessible at the QMK github repository.

These mappings are then applied by running a simple command where _'smittey'_ is the name of my layout, _'rev5'_ is the PCB revision, and _'dfu'_ is the bootloader:

make planck/rev5:smittey:dfu

------------------------------------------------------------------------

As I mentioned, these layers are a work in progress and are constantly being tweaked to work better for me. I doubt that they will change drastically but it's likely that in a few months my actual mappings won't reflect what's in this post. For now though this is a good record of _V 1.0_ of my Planck keyboard.

You can find my full mappings and source code on Github here, the above layout to edit and further improve on here, and if you have any comments or potential improvements (as I'm sure there are many) please do let me know in the comments below!

question: Summarize how the author adapts his Planck keyboard to his own needs.

text: The answer is incorrect. The author never states they are the keyboard's inventor.

text: Major grammatical edit required for coherency.

answer: The author is using the article to show how they have adapted their Planck keyboard to their preferences. The author is a Software Engineer and so spent most of their time adapting the Raise layer to have symbols that they sued most often for coding. They also wanted an entire layer dedicated to numbers so that they could do calculations on a whim.They adapted the 'Home Row' to contain they keys they most often use in order to make their own life more comfortable. Due to the limited space on a Planck keyboard they made sure they could switch between functionalities with key macros (Q/C/D),

answer: The author swaps the position of the CTRL key to the leftmost key, as he is used to on other boards. He also turns the Enter key into Shift when held. He adds a layer dedicated to the numpad for doing calculations. He also adds a shift key in there too in case he wants to turn these numbers into symbols. He adds a layer for commonly used symbols. He adds a layer for function keys and macros. He adds a layer for navigation. He adds a layer for keyboard settings and configurations.

text: The answer should mention that the author also changes the base layer.

text: The answer omits that the author also swaps the position of the CTRL key to the leftmost key, as he is used to on other boards.

text: The answer should mention that the author also adds a space function layer.

text: The answer could mention that the author adds a function key.

text: "He adds a layer for keyboard settings and configurations." - this is the same as "adjust layer" and should be removed.

text: The response includes extraneous information not useful for the task.

text: The author adds two layers, not four.

text: Does not mention the spacebar.

answer: The author swaps the position of the CTRL key to the leftmost key, as he is used to on other boards. He also turns the Enter key into Shift when held. He adds a layer dedicated to the numpad for doing calculations. He also adds a shift key in there too in case he wants to turn these numbers into symbols. He adds a layer for commonly used symbols. He adds a layer for function keys and macros. He adds a layer for navigation. He adds a layer for keyboard settings and configurations.

answer: The author, who is the inventor of the Planck Keyboard tells us how they best adapted the keyboard to best fit their job as a Software Engineer the main points of their article is that you can change the keyboard to suit you, no matter how many layers you need to get the job done the Planck Keyboard can do it all.

text: The author is not the inventor of the Planck keyboard.

text: The author does not claim to have invented the Planck keyboard.

text: The author of the article is not the inventor of the Planck keyboard, nor is there any mention of the inventor.

text: The author never claims to have invented the keyboard and never said anything regarding "layers". In the example laid out, the space function has become a navigation layer.


text:
**Tone, Voice, Style, Story: Feedback would be very much appreciated.**

I suppose it started when I first heard her name. For a thing begins much before the actuality in the imagining and the presupposing and building up in the brain of what it could be.

Madison.

It was a pretty name.

At the time I was living in a small one-bedroom apartment on the fringes of the notoriously crime ridden Earen Street. Notorious may be too harsh a word but it was well known as a place where sadists and tourists alike often visited, although only quickly, and then after left quicker still. The houses were small and laboriously neglected; the front lawns of every household were little more than whispers of dying grass and dirt and old cars that would never run again. The rent was cheap and I was rather poor and had little of value so I didn’t fear being robbed as much as I should. The last of my luck was spent on that hope. Honestly, I didn’t mind the surroundings (not even the blue-red flashing lights that almost nightly pattered across my window). I worked for a local bakery; earned only enough to immediately spend or spent as much as I earned; I was never sure which but had little money either way. I had just moved to the City having pushed east towards the coast from the rugged, sparsely populated bushland that dominated most of the state, looking for work, looking to carve a life for myself and deny the hapless, soft fool I had once been.

These facts are rudimentary to a brisk, autumnal Saturday afternoon as I made my way home after an arduous shift at the bakery. The evening was chasing the cusp of night and the sun hung low over the blocky City horizon. I walked and enjoyed the cool weather, letting the ache of sustained concentration seep from my body. But as I neared the junction of Earen Street a man appeared along the footpath. He was half-hidden by the twilight gloom of the evening but his shady, dishevelled silhouette cut a menacing figure. Missing a shoe, his shirt half torn, the beast hobbled towards me. As he approached I could sense the tension that like a disease infected the air around him. I paused and he pushed on past me, a desperate gleam to his wet eyes. And then he started to yell loudly and frantically a single word:

“Madison!”

I thought nothing of it at the time.

I liked to go out on weekends; head deeper into the City in pursuit of the bustling nightlife that was so alien and so strange and so alive and nothing like I had ever experienced in the almost-savage outback. It demanded inebriation and I, the willing sacrifice, spent many early mornings dancing, drinking, smoking and vomiting amid the swirl of civility that could expect nothing less. That’s where I met her. She was outside a small pub called Samson’s that was situated between two larger clubs and was a favourite resting place among those who knew it. She leant against a tall neon lit streetlamp, cigarette burning short between her lips.  Her hair was toned twice between differing shades of blonde and her eyes, like gems, shone a piercing blue. She smiled easily. Her small, round face was very pretty. Her lips were full and red. As I stumbled towards Samson’s, giddy from having just avoided a raucous and completely unnecessary but somehow integral fistfight at one of the clubs I caught her eye and grinned.

“You look like shit.” she said as I neared her. It was an honest statement.

“Thank you… you look.. like a sunrise.” I was liquored-up and she laughed to spite me. Undeterred, I asked for a cigarette and she happily complied.

“I’m Sam, by the way.”

“I’m Madison.”

Something moved at the fringes of my blurred recognition then as I lit the smoke and took a drag but I pushed it away.

“Where are you heading tonight?” I asked.

“Nowhere in particular, you?”

“By my lonesome tonight.”

“You aren’t a crazy loner creep are you?”

“I suppose I am.” I conceded.

“Well at least you’re honest about it.”

“If anything, I am honest. What about you? What are you if nothing else?”

“Probably crazy.” her smile was devilish.

“Well, crazy and lonely. We’d make a good villain.”

“You can tag along with me, if you like.”

We did that modern manoeuvre of exchanging numbers then I stubbed out my cigarette and went in search of a celebratory drink. I remember having one final swig of some sticky sweet mixed spirit before collapsing to the ground unconscious. I awoke the next morning upon the front step of my apartment.

The week that followed passed slowly and uneventfully. I thought quite a bit of Madison in the quieter moments and many times I considered calling or texting her on the number she had given me. But somehow, I didn’t. I suppose I feared substantiality.
Yet, despite myself I did visit Samson’s every afternoon hoping that we could by chance (because chance is the one thing that could supersede denial) meet again but Madison didn’t return and the food was bland and overpriced. And the days passed on as normal. She plagued my mind, though, and it was uncomfortable the amount of time I spent thinking about her; but it was good and fun when I gave into it. I conjured up images of her ruining men; of flitting from one to the other as she was fawned upon and beseeched for attention. Somehow, she was pure in even that. That is how I saw her and over the long week she became known to me like one knows an old acquaintance: with absurd familiarity.

Another day of work passed and later, as I lay in bed that night having called home and let them know that I was okay, and after congratulating my younger brother on his fourteenth birthday, having tidied my small apartment and given in to the temptation of fast food I retreated to comfort.
I was accompanied by thoughts of her again. She was truly pretty; one of those girls that men look upon and think immediately of matrimony and children and a comfortable life of three meals, of white-picketed fences and the blissful slipping into age and happy unrequired but partnered existence that follows. I held my phone in my hands, turning it slowly, considering what I’d say if I did call her, how, when and if I truly wanted to at all. Just as my nerves started to berate my conscious I stood, half dressed and retrieved the packet of smokes from above my fridge that I kept for emergencies. I cracked open the front door and stood in the frame, taking long, slow drags of the pleasurable toxin as I looked out upon the lamp lit street. Dogs barked not too far away, and cars continued to roll past in semi-regular intervals. The sky above was starless and black and the verdant smell of rain was carried upon a slight breeze. I finished a smoke but as Madison still complemented my thoughts: lit another.
I watched the night unfold upon the urban sprawl and then i spotted, in the distance someone running up the street along the path across from my apartment. It wasn’t particularly alarming; having lived along Earen Street for the last few months such sights became almost common occurrences. But then my heart flew into my throat. The figure stopped under one light and for a moment became fully, intricately visible.

It was Madison.

She was wearing a hoody and denim jeans; her hair tucked up in a half bundle but her eyes, those gem-like blue eyes, shone with a neon glare that my imagination had deified. Without thinking I breathed her name, and then shouted it down the street. Her head spun around and she locked eyes with me.

“It’s Sam.” I clarified with a wave, stepping into the light, “We met  last week. I owe you a smoke, don’t I?”

She was tense as she walked over to me.

“I could use a coffee.” she suggested, glancing over her shoulder nervously.

I let her into my apartment and closed the door. As soon as my front door clicked shut behind her, Madison began to relax. I put the kettle on to boil and offered her a seat and something to eat.

“Thanks, Sam, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You disappeared that night, if I remember.”

I blushed: “Drank a little too much.”

She raised an eyebrow and smiled. I noticed that she carried herself with a particular certainty; one borne of stolen youth and sudden, violent maturity. She reminded me of a stray cat in a way; so unlike that which I had envisaged. But it wasn’t an unpleasant realisation. Her lips too were less vivid, and her eyes more wild. I started to pour us each a hot mug of coffee.

“So, what makes you come to Earen Street on a night like this?” I asked, jesting.

“My ex-boyfriend lives nearby.”

I froze, mid-pour of measured cup. It occurred to me that this had happened before and I had been a second too late; discovering the boyfriend, a mess, moving down the street with desperation. My confidence taunted me; would i be next? I almost glanced out the window, expecting to see the same crazed eyes staring back; his or mine.
“We broke up not long ago,” she explained, “but I hoped we could work it out. Apparently, we can’t.”

I smiled as the memory flashed, and faded, and was then forgotten. But the seconds dragged on and I have always been terrible at small talk. I had been raised to speak plainly and honestly and, although infinitely useful for a mother to rein in her child, it was a curse to my adult self.

“He was probably a dick.” I said gruffly and she smiled.
And then we started to talk. We spoke of the places we grew up, of why we moved to The City and how, of what we were planning on in the future as well as now. It was an easy conversation filled with longwinded explanations synonymous with comfortable friendship but soon the weight of time started to press upon us and we realised it was closing on midnight.

“You’re a good guy, Sam.” said Madison.

She moved closer.

“You’re wonderful.” I said.

She moved closer still.

And then our lips were pressed against each other’s and her breath tasted of coffee and sugar and something bitter like blood. She pressed herself onto me and we found our way to my bedroom. Leaning heavily into each other; smothered in embrace. She took off her hoody and then her shirt. Her breasts were small and pale in the half-light that spilled through the window, her nipples erect. I undressed quickly.
It was quick and loud and awkward at first but soon we fell away from each other sweaty and tired. Madison fell asleep almost immediately after and I leant over and kissed her lightly on the forehead. She looked so beautiful then. I pressed my nose into the back of her neck and slept.

The next day she left early and without saying much.
And I saw her never again.

title: [RF] I Suppose

question: Who is Madison's ex-boyfriend?

text: The story provides a possible identity for the ex-boyfriend.

answer: It is somewhat implied that the man who was missing a shoe may have been the ex-boyfriend (since he lived in the area and had said her name).

text: It's omitted that he seems disheveled and not over their recent breakup.

answer: The narrator doesn't know.

text: The narrator does know.

text: The answer is wrong.

text: The answer is incorrect. The narrator does know who Madison's ex-boyfriend is.

text: The narrator does know. He's the guy who was yelling Madison's name.

text: The passage does not say.

text: According to the passage, the narrator saw the ex-boyfriend before and can describe him.

answer: No answer

text: The answer fails to mention that it is implied Madison's ex-boyfriend is the man at the beginning of the story.

answer: No answer

text: The answer should be "the man who was looking for Madison".

text: The answer is incorrect.

text: The answer should be "the man who was yelling Madison's name".

text: The man the narrator saw was Madison's ex-boyfriend.

text: The answer should not be a complete sentence.

text: Yes there is he is mentioned in the story when they meet.

answer: The narrator doesn't know.

answer: It is somewhat implied that the man who was missing a shoe may have been the ex-boyfriend (since he lived in the area and had said her name).

text: The answer should be clearer about the fact that the man is implied to be Madison's ex-boyfriend.

text: The answer is not clear.

text: The answer should be clearer about the fact that the man missing a shoe is implied to be Madison's ex-boyfriend.

text: The man who was missing a shoe is Madison's ex-boyfriend.

text: The answer is not clear enough and should be rewritten.

text: The answer is presumptuous and presumptuous in the least flattering way possible (racial profiling). The question only asked about the boyfriend and not about the man the narrator encountered.