text:
THE TRIANGLE CLUB is a strip club located in Northern Gardens, Bohan, in Grand Theft Auto IV.

-   1 Description
-   2 Influence
-   3 Prominent appearances in missions
-   4 Gallery
-   5 Bugs
-   6 Trivia

Description

The club was originally owned by Dwayne Forge. However, after Forge was sent to prison, the club was taken over and by 2008 it is owned by the Trunchez brothers, Javier, Jose and Jesus, who are business associates of Trey Stewart, Forge's former protégé.

The club features two stages with poles where women dance and a back room where the player may receive lap dances. Behind one stage there is a changing room with a pistol and a Health pick up. However, if the player enters this room, the dancers and clients will flee and the guards will attack them. There is also a shotgun in the office to the left of the entrance.

The radio station that plays inside the club is The Vibe 98.8, however, in _Grand Theft Auto: Episodes from Liberty City_, it is changed to Electro-Choc (The Crookers mix). The private room music is also changed, featuring songs from Vice City FM.

The club has been visited by numerous celebrities, inclduing internet mogul Tony McTony (who severely assaulted one of their strippers), DJ Green Lantern and the cast of America's Next Top Hooker, both part of commercial promotions.

It is one of Niko Bellic's options for outings with friends or by himself. It is also one of two strips clubs accessible to the player (the other being the Honkers Gentlemen's Club in Alderney).

Influence

The club may be based on the _Sin City Cabaret Club,_ a strip club located in The Bronx, New York City.

Prominent appearances in missions

The club is featured in the mission "Undress to Kill", when Niko Bellic kills the Trunchez brothers and reclaims the club for Dwayne Forge. Dwayne is grateful to Niko, but Playboy X is angered due to the Trunchez brothers being business associates of his.

In _The Ballad of Gay Tony_, the stickup variation of Drug Wars may take place here.

Gallery

[Triangle Club]

The exterior view of the club

[Triangle Club interior]

The interior of the club

[Triangle Club (GTACW)]

The club in GTA Chinatown Wars

[Triangle club GTAIV]

The Triangle Club as seen from the subway tracks.

Add a photo to this gallery

Bugs

-   The security guard outside of the club will often go out of his way to attack the player far away from the club, should the player fire a weapon or get into fights with local gang members.

Trivia

-   "Triangle" is a slang term for vagina.
-   If the player walks next to the changing room or near it, the strippers will still run out, but the security guards will not attack the player.
-   The building that the strip club is based in is presumably a refurbished series of commercial/industrial buildings, on which painted signage from its previous owners are still visible, albeit faded. The signs include "Discount Wholesale (est. 1899)", "Richard Bros." and "You'll like our finest ointment and cure all creme! It's Hana's Relief, try it!" (a pun on the sexual act of a handjob).
-   Both the neon signage on the side of the building, and the pole mounted sign resemble the lower half of a female torso (just below the breast line, which is formed by the upper part of the sign) and the upper thigh area (formed by the lower part of the sign). On both sets of signage, there is a triangle situated around the 'groin' area which denotes a manicured area of pubic hair. Note that this area of 'pubic hair' on the signs is identically shaped to the Triangle Club's official logo. This proves that the Triangle reference is, in fact, cued to a given style of the female genitals.

question: The Triangle Club is a part of which game?

answer: The Triangle Club is a part of Grand Theft Auto IV.

question: What happens if the player enters the changing room?

answer: If the player enters the changing room, the dancers and clients will flee and the guards will attack them.

question: Which radio station plays inside the club?

answer: The Vibe 98.8 plays inside the club.

question: Which other club is accessible to the players?

answer: The Honkers Gentlemen's Club in Alderney is accessible to the players.

question: Write a ~6 sentence summary.

answer:
The Triangle Club is a part of the Grand Theft Auto IV. The club is originally owned by Dwayne Forge. However, it is later taken over and owned by the Trunchez brothers, Javier, Jose and Jesus. The club features two stages with poles where women dance and a back room where the players can receive lap dances.

The club is one of the two strip clubs accessible to the players (the other being the Honkers Gentlemen's Club in Alderney). The club is featured in the mission "Undress to Kill".


split: train

text:
The twelfth season of _South Park_, an American animated television series created by Trey Parker and Matt Stone, began airing on March 12, 2008. The twelfth season concluded after 14 episodes on November 19, 2008. _Saturday Night Live_ cast member Bill Hader is credited as a consultant starting with this season. Parker was the director and writer in this twelfth season. Stone was also the writer on the third episode of the twelfth season.

Overview

This season features a new title sequence, replacing the one used since the sixth season. It recreates the original to begin with before using clips from seasons four to eleven which the boys also sing their lines over. These older clips are replaced every half season with newer ones.

In the first half of the season, Mr. Kitty returns to prominence in “Major Boobage” for the first time since season three's “Cat Orgy”, while Terrance and Phillip haven't featured prominently since season five's “Terrance and Phillip: Behind the Blow”. Canada last featured prominently as a setting in season seven's “It's Christmas in Canada”. Most notably in this season is Ms. Garrison's second sex change, returning her to being a man, as Mr. Garrison again. This is the last episode to date to explore Garrison's much examined sexuality. “Super Fun Time” indicates that following “The List”, Stan and Wendy Testaburger are dating again.

The second half of the season begins with “The China Probrem”, which marks the return of Steven Spielberg and George Lucas who are again portrayed as villains, despite seemingly dying in season six's “Free Hat”. There is also the one two-part story: “Pandemic” and “Pandemic 2: The Startling”. The following episode “About Last Night” parodies Barack Obama's victory in the 2008 presidential elections the night before. The episode was written and animated under the assumption Obama would win which turned out to be correct. Parker and Stone said it was considered intentionally redubbing the episode poorly if John McCain had won. This episode also revealed the political alliances of several citizens. “The Ungroundable” marks the return of the Goth Kids who last featured in season nine's “Erection Day”.

Kenny McCormick does not die in this season.

Awards

The season received one Emmy award and, in May 2009, a Webby Award.[1]

Reception

Critical response

The twelfth season of _South Park_ has been met with mostly positive reviews from critics and fans. Travis Fikett of IGN gave the season 7.5/10, saying that it was “good” and "Season 12 isn't bad, it's just not that great. There are a number of misfires and no truly classic episodes. That's a rarity for a series that often has fans calling up friends the next morning to say “Oh my God, did you see _South Park_?”.[2]

Episodes

DVD release

_South Park: The Complete Twelfth Season_ was released as a three-disc Region 1 DVD box set in the USA on March 10, 2009, nearly one year after it had begun broadcast on television.

  -------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------------
  _SOUTH PARK – THE COMPLETE TWELFTH SEASON_

  SET DETAILS

  -   14 Episodes
  -   3-Disc Set
  -   1.33:1 Aspect Ratio
  -   Subtitles: English
  -   English (Dolby Digital 5.1 Surround)

  RELEASE DATES

  March 10, 2009
  -------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------------

[1]

[2]

title: South Park (season 12)

question: When did the season begin airing?

answer: March 12, 2008

question: What awards did the season win?

answer: One Emmy Award, and a Webby Award in May 2009

question: When was the season released on DVD in the US?

answer: March 10, 2009

question: Which episode did Matt Stone write?

answer: The third episode

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: The twelfth season of South Park, an American animated television series created by Trey Parker and Matt Stone, began airing in March 2008. The season consisted of 14 episodes. It received an Emmy Award and a Webby Award. In March 2009, it was released on DVD in the USA.


text:
Hey Everyone :D  I'm only a casual writer, but I just finished this short story on a whim tonight.  Please give me some feedback and let me know what you think.  Also, I'm really interested in knowing what sort of emotions you felt while reading it.  Thanks everyone!

It sounded like the deep whoosh of fan blades, but they were in his head.  The world seemed as if it were being seen through a plastic sheet, everything was blurry and finding focus was impossible.  Nevertheless, the small, dark haired boy began pushing himself up to his feet.  Confusion swept through him.  In his hand was a small piece of jagged aluminum, the kind used for guttering, or heavy tin cans.  It seemed so foreign.

	As the boy's gaze rose, he saw a man lying next to him.  Most of his head had been removed by the blast of some large firearm.  Small chunks of brain were strewn for several feet around them both.  Gray matter and blood formed an Spaghetti-Oh looking soup in the rivets and missing chunks of the cold concrete floor.  You could see the top of the man's spine by looking in the large hole where his right cheekbone should have been.

	A woman.  A woman ran towards the boy looking frantic – dangerous even.  She had a wild look in her eye, and a shotgun in held loosely in her hand, pointing at the floor.  He knew that if he let her get close, something bad would happen.  She would wrap her blood-covered arms around him and take him away.  Take him away from wherever he was to someplace else, someplace strange and terrible.

	The boy was shaking with fear and staring at the woman when suddenly the quiet hit him.  Everything went silent.  It was as if he had awoken to a world set in a Charlie Chaplan film.  The quiet – the nothingness within the quiet – scared the boy.  It scared him worse than the dead man, worse than the crazy shotgun-toting lady.  It scared him on a primal level and he knew right away that he should run.  He should run and get as far away as possible.

	The woman had gotten closer.  She was opening her mouth, pointing at him, even crying in her raging hysteria.  She looked battered.  The dark, shining areas under both of her eyes told the entire story easily enough.  She seemed oddly familiar.  Her insanity was evident in her face, twisted with more emotion than the young boy could understand.  He turned to flee, but was too slow.  A hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him back towards the crazy lady.

	It wasn't something he thought about.  Not at all.  As the hand touched his shoulder, he jerked violently around and thrust the jagged aluminum spike with all of his might.  There was some resistance, but it quickly gave way.   Although the woman did not have her gun raised, the sudden jerk raised the barrel in line with the young boys knee.  As fire ripped through her abdomen, she accidentally pulled the trigger.

	Something about the shotgun blast shook the boy deep inside.  Sounds flooded back into his world.  It was almost too loud, too sudden.  The ground was coming at him.  His leg would not work to catch him.  The confusion was too much, blackness started to seep in around the edges of his vision.  His head hit the ground hard, but he remained conscious.  In shock, and too scared to move, the boy could only watch.

The woman had fallen to her side, and was gripping at the aluminum shaft sticking out of her stomach.  The look on her face was born of pure surprise.  Her abdominal muscles reacted to the impalement –  instantly locking up and tightening around the intruder.  She felt her lifeblood flowing freely from wound, felt herself getting weaker.  Her poor boy.  He breathed raggedly on the ground next to her, looking up in fearful state of shock that Vietnam veterans would have cringed at.  She felt herself slipping away.  She looked down at the boy.  “Son... why?”

title: Of Dark And Twisted Moments

question: Who is the woman running toward the boy?

answer: She is his mother.

question: Who killed the man lying next to the boy?

answer: It is unclear who killed him, but he was killed by some massive firearm.

question: What is the boy holding?

answer: He is holding a small piece of jagged aluminum.

question: How does the boy feel as the woman approaches him?

answer: He feels fearful.

question: Write a ~6 sentence summary.

answer: A boy gets up with a jagged piece of aluminum in his hand. He looks over and sees a man that has been shot to pieces next to him. He starts walking and sees a woman looking frantic and scary with a gun. He is about to run away from her when she grabs him. He stabs her and she accidentally shoots him. She turns out to be his mother.


text:
[New Logo and On-air Look for truTV by loyalkaspar]

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Reviewed Nov. 5, 2014 by Armin NO COMMENTS ON NEW LOGO AND ON-AIR LOOK FOR TRUTV BY LOYALKASPAR

Industry / Entertainment Tags / #colorful#icon set#loyalkaspar#on-air

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question: What project is the document referring to?

answer: It seems that the project is the subscription, but it is not clear.

question: What subscription is the document referring to?

answer: Brand New

question: What can you do if you can't afford the subscription?

answer: You can email Brand New and tell them you can't afford it, no questions asked.

question: What are some details of the subscription?

answer: The subscription includes full content, polls, comments, the Follow-up podcast, full RSS functionality, and the weekly news letter.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: This document advertises and provides information for a Brand New subscription.


text:
[Your Community]

Being a board member of a homeowner’s association can be difficult at times. The best way to handle any potential contention is to explain that your primary role as a community leader is to enhance the planned community experience equally and fairly.

Even still, you may be asked to deal with tough issues that relate to your next-door neighbor – maybe even your friends. Along with your commitment of time and resources, it can be difficult to explain why a special assessment or a dues increase is needed. It is no wonder then why community members will oftentimes shy away from volunteering their services and committing to becoming new board members even if they are interested.

With interested homeowners being hesitant to commit to becoming a board member, how do you convince concerned people that volunteering is a worthwhile endeavor?  How do you find and select qualified members from the community that are actually interested in wanting to support their communities by becoming a member of the board?

Seeking New Board Members Requires Due Diligence

Directors need to perform due diligence when seeking new candidates. But, it isn’t just the directors who can help with recruiting new Board Members. By following a few tips, the task of performing the appropriate due diligence and finding qualified new board members for your Association may be easier than you think.

Perform due diligence when seeking new candidates.Click To Tweet

[Working together]

8 Tips for Recruiting New HOA Board Members

1.  Have an existing Board Member be a designated “welcoming person”. Then, when a new homeowner moves in, the “welcoming person” can provide introductions, invite them to attend meetings, and encourage them to provide feedback and get involved with a committee. They may be willing or even eager to serve on a committee immediately as a way to meet new people and make new acquaintances.
2.  Add new homeowners to a well organized Association newsletter service. Keeping homeowners informed and educated properly is the beginning of a good relationship.
3.  Ask for opinions from professionals in the community, especially if they have advanced skills in fields like accounting and insurance. These folks are usually quite busy, but if something is a hot topic in the community they may feel compelled to help out with their expertise.
4.  Build a relationship with homeowners who consistently come to meetings. You can start by complimenting them on their interest in the community reflected in their regular attendance. Ask them about their interest or if they have ever considered a board position.
5.  Use Association committee members as a source for new recruits. Landscaping or special project committees can be especially resourceful because these committee members are exposed to many homeowners within the community. Encourage committee members to interact with, invite, and encourage the homeowners they encounter.
6.  Build community relationships and foster goodwill through social activities. Ensure your Association provides regularly scheduled community social events. Community block parties or book clubs are great examples of community builders. Does your community have a clubhouse? Hold regular events to celebrate holidays and sports events. Use these events to build strong relationships while canvasing prospective new board members.
7.  Lead by example. Show community homeowners that being a board member can be fun.
8.  Ask. Sometimes all that Associations need to do is ask their homeowners about their interest in considering becoming a Board Member. Some of the best potential Board Members may simply need to know they are welcome and the worst that can happen is that they say, “no, thank you.”

Board meetings can also be a great place to educate people about the role of the Board, especially their fiduciary responsibilities and how your Association as a corporate entity has a duty to each of its homeowners – the shareholders. The relationships your Board has with its homeowners should be friendly and be welcoming while illustrating the importance of trust, transparency, and commitment to the community’s best interest. Having your Association partner with a management company that has the experience can also help you conduct a well-rounded search for new board members.

After taking all of the tips into consideration, it is essential to recruit folks who seem reasonable and are not interested in promoting private agendas. A Homeowners Association functions best when it is run by people with a vested interest in their community.

  [Rinaldo Acri-CEO Acri Commercial Realty]

  Rinaldo Acri says, “Finding the right mix of Board Members is just as important as choosing the right management company to run your community.”

If you’d like help from a trustworthy HOA management company, contact Acri Community Realty for a free evaluation.

_Disclaimer: This content including advice provides generic information only. It is in no way a substitute for qualified legal opinion. Always consult a specialist or your own attorney for more information. Acri Community Realty does not claim responsibility for this information._

[ACRI COMMUNITY REALTY]ABOUT ACRI COMMUNITY REALTY: ACRI COMMUNITY REALTY, LOCATED IN THE GREATER PITTSBURGH AREA, SPECIALIZES IN CUSTOM HOA AND CONDO PROPERTY MANAGEMENT SOLUTIONS, SCALED TO FIT YOUR NEEDS.
ACRI IS KNOWN FOR THE GREAT CARE AND PRIDE IN THE WORK DONE TO PROTECT AND ENHANCE THE VALUE OF YOUR INVESTMENT. THEY HAVE THE PRIVILEGE OF MANAGING A DIVERSE PORTFOLIO OF PROPERTIES WHILE CARING FOR EACH AND EVERY HOME LIKE IT IS THEIR OWN.

IF YOU’VE HAD ANY ISSUES WITH YOUR HOA OR CONDO THAT YOU’D LIKE ACRI TO TRY AND DELVE INTO, AND POSSIBLY WRITE ABOUT LATER CONTACT US VIA OUR WEBSITE AT ⇒ ACRI COMMUNITY REALTY. WE ARE INTERESTED TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR EXPERIENCES AND HOW AN ASSOCIATION HAS HELPED OR HURT.

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_BE SURE TO FOLLOW ACRI COMMUNITY REALTY TO STAY UPDATED AND INFORMED ON ISSUES INVOLVING ASSOCIATION LIVING._

[ACRI 5 Stars@Yelp]

question: What does the text say about the qualities that make a good homeowner's association director?

question: What does the text say about the challenges of being a board member of a homeowner's association?

answer: Being a board member of a homeowner's association can be difficult at times. A board member needs to explain that their primary role as a community leader is to enhance the planned community experience equally and fairly to handle any potential contention. Board members are tasked to deal with tough issues related to next-door neighbors and even friends. There is also the commitment of time and resources or the times that the need for a dues increase must be explained to the community.

question: What does the text say about one of the main roles of the homeowner's association director?

answer: One of the main roles of a homeowner's association director is convincing and recruiting concerned members of the community to volunteer as board members. The director needs to find and select qualified people that are actually interested in wanting to support their communities. Directors also need to perform due diligence when seeking new candidates.

question: What does the text say about why due diligence is needed when selecting board members for the homeowner's association?

answer: Due diligence is needed to find qualified new board members. It can filter out folks who want to promote private agendas. By doing due diligence, a Homeowner's Association can attract people with a vested interest in the community.


text:
Damn. Now I really didn't see this happening. Of all the things to happen at this bland school and this is the shit that happens. Wow. I guess I'm getting a bit carried, let me start from the beginning.
          My school, Jefferson Middle School, is rather boring, nothing really exciting happens here except the occasional girl drama that usally goes like, "Brian likes me! Not you, skany hoe!" And ends in a matter of three days. I'm usually quiet, if you were to call me "popular girl," you would be wrong but calling me a "nerd" wouldn't be right either. I was just sort of there. I had my friends and that's all I needed. That's where this story starts. With my friend, Daniel. Daniel was a pretty intresting boy. All acceralted classes, loved video games and comics, and wasn't bad looking at all. Over the first year of middle school, Daniel and I became pretty close. Hanging out after school and learning about eachother. It was pretty nice. Daniel loved life and he wasn't afraid to show it. If he had something to say, oh would he say it, but he was never disrespectful about it. He was always being a gentlemen. People always said shit about him.
         "Oh! Did you hear about Daniel? I heard he was sucking cock in the bathroom!"
         "Daniel the fag!"
         "Daniel should go burn in fucking hell with all the other fags that enjoy buttsex!" Get the trend here? They kept on saying he was gay, over and over. Through messages on Facebook, notes, or even writing on bathroom walls, which is very cliche. There have been times where I have asked if he was gay and I would get the same answer every time.
          "Do you think I am?" Over and over, he never changed it. Daniel was really proud and he felt as if he shouldn't state if he were gay or not and I really admire that about him. 8th grade started and I assumed that the gay jokes would have gotten old by now, but they didn't. They actual got worse. More people started calling him a "fag, dick-sucker," and spreading rumors that I don't even wanna remember. I noticed a change in Daniel, he wasn't as outgoing, didn't speak his mind, became less quite, less proud. I tried helping him, I really did but it never worked. He seemed to just become more depressed. Those kids never noticed either, they just attacked him more and more, getting more ruthless with each insult. This drama was lasting way more than three days and I wasn't sure what would happen. Shit even got worsed.
          That's when I heard the intercom come on one day during class.
       "Students, I am sad to announce that our student, Daniel Rigsbee, has died yesterday." They didn't tell us how he died, but we all knew. He killed himself. The voice of the principal announcing his death was so fucking emotionless, it made it seem as if Daniel was some character in a movie that died. Everyone was silent. I was filled with anger. Those ruthless bastards did this. They didn't know when to stop. The minute the bell rang, I sprinted to his house asking if it was true was they said today. His father simply nodded and beckoned me in. He said that there was a note left in his room directed to me and "bitches." I walked to his room, feeling as if I was going to puke. I found the note, all directed in rainbows, colors, and smiley faces. It made me sick. I opened the note with nervoness and read.
        "Dear Juno and the son of bitches at school. Let me make this clear. I am not fucking gay. I am as straight as the pole your mom dances on. I should not have to tell people this, it's my life and you shouldn't be butting in. Pun intended. You caused this and I hope you feel great. You did it! You've killed me! I'm not gonna say that this wasn't your guys' fault because fuck that. It totally was. I hope you live with that burden that you killed me for your whole life. Juno, I hope you live a great life and don't cry over me, you didn't cause this. You are amazing and don't let people do what they did to me to you. I would punch their neck. (:
                                            Bye,
                                                  Daniel-Not fucking gay-Rigsbee
        What the fuck? That wasn't sad at all. This was the Daniel that I knew. He killed himself because he was done of the shit. I don't think he felt sorry or anything. I don't even know. As I turned to leave, I found something else. It was another note reading, "I hope this was exciting enough for you, Juno. I am a coward. I wasn't gonna deal with this anymore. They didn't win, remerber that. I won. They get to deal with my death. -Daniel"
         Fucking. Daniel.

title: Uhhmm...Well I'm 13 and I would like to be a writer when I get older so here's one of my short stories. Reviews? Be honest.

question: What does the story say about bullying?

answer: Daniel is bullied with vicious rumors and threats about being gay. The bullying comes in the form of in-person taunting, Facebook messages, notes, and even messages on the bathroom walls. The bullying doesn't stop, and Daniel eventually commits suicide. In his suicide letter, he blames the bullies for his death and says that he hopes the bullies live with the burden of this for their whole lives.

question: Summarize the narrator's relationship with Daniel.

answer: In their first year of middle school, the narrator and Daniel became close friends by hanging out after school and learning about each other. By 8th grade, Daniel is bullied with rumors of being gay and becomes depressed. The narrator tried to help him, but he eventually became so depressed he killed himself. In his suicide letter, Daniel says that the narrator is amazing and hopes they live a great life. The narrator is angry at his death.

question: Summarize the school's reaction to Daniel's death.

answer: The school minimally announces Daniel's death, but the student body knows he committed suicide. The principal was emotionless in his delivery of the news. The students were all silent.

question: What does the story say about the bullies' reaction to Daniel's note?


text:
The sky is poetic when you consider it emotionally: sunsets draw tears and rolling tongues of clouds pull mouths open and vicious, wandering storms inspire dizzying cries for God or help or *someone*.

I am not poetic.

This is what makes me stare at the cottage-cheese ceiling in my room at night and wonder why I will never admire myself. I conjure you and watch you effortlessly twist nails into your hands, watch the wounds bleed ink and meaning, because you always told me you admired me but I never believed you, and the way your eyes would look not into me but behind me made me nervous and I think that’s why you could never really love me.

But I tried.

*Fuck you* I tried.

I tried and then I told myself that your angled good looks were beyond me and that your ancient, slippery tongue would never find mine and then I ached until I could convince myself of some flaw you weren’t aware of. I tangled myself into tight enough knots that I couldn’t walk straight and I couldn’t unwind myself for long enough to make hollow conversation or take deep enough breaths.

I wanted your easy wit and your offensive charm but I wanted you to give it to me like a lesson so I could hang it on the wall like a picture and remember the time I fell in love with the idea of a boy. And I didn’t care that I knew you would never feel awful, rooted things for me. I never cared about that.

And I made like I was finding myself or something because your body sitting next to mine made me feel shallow and hopeless and all I wanted to do was be *your* type of person and then you would let me crawl inside of you and decipher your secrets for myself.

You were different than anyone I knew with your swarming lies and your spangled lines of art and people and pale, tortured love stories. You drew me in with those choked eyes of yours like the depths of you were hungry for something you knew you would never have.

Storms strike first from a distance: all swirling, coked-up air and this graceful, rhythmic dance between high and low pressure that spins so far out of control it makes hearts grow restless even when all you can see of it makes it look like a gray, stretched-out cotton ball. I watch cagey men on National Geographic. I watch them crawl in head-first, greedy-eyed. I cringe at their middle fingers raised to the clouded sun.

You gutted me.

You gutted me and you didn’t realize that you’d done it because I didn’t turn myself inside-out for you like you thought I did. I absorbed you and leaked you back out and you smiled at me as if to say *you’re the girl I’ve been waiting for* and I was so drunk with your approval that I couldn’t look at my toenails without seeing them through your eyes.

But my heart pounded with each inch you let me head in your direction and you welcomed me with your spinning, wild arms and I smiled at you as if to say *you get all of me but you don’t get to know why* because that was my idea of mystery.

You didn’t ask questions.

I watch storm chasers and I watch twisters pick up houses and cows and spit them back out crumbled and worthless. I watch how the air, coiling, grins and doesn’t stop. I watch adrenaline-junkies point their cameras and get the shot and I watch their smiles: that kid on Christmas morning clutching a toy helicopter like it’s all he’s ever going to need.

I haven’t moved from this place since you left.

If I move I’ll get caught up in your backlash and your intelligent, twitching fingers with those sweet, tidy good-byes of yours. I’ll gag on the memory of you and your drugged march because you had to be going somewhere always, forced to inhale the comforting slant of your whole body, the one I knew like the curve of my own reflection.

I remember you gave me a notebook once, and you wrote my name in your earnest chicken scratch on the inside of the sturdy red cover and you told me *go crazy* but I didn’t. I sat and watched you scribble yourself into oblivion on your own blank pages. I could never dream up enough words to write a good sentence. You thought we were kindred, back then. You told me not to look for it, just to find it, and I would know. You told me a lot of things and I remember them all, but your words sit beside me like a pale sketch of you, eyes wide and shoulders slack. For a long time your words filled me up but now they’re just scraps of your character that I can’t seem to hide anywhere.

Sometimes I wish you were still here but mostly the riprap of ripped-up ground and shattered houses you have left me with feel like home enough to crawl into and sleep. The imprint of your body here is big enough so the sheets puff thick around my head and I’ll never have to breathe again.

You were poetic enough for the both of us.

title: Riprap

question: Who is the narrator talking about?

answer: Not answered explicitly, but the narrator seems to be speaking about a former romantic partner

question: Why did the person the narrator is talking about treat the narrator in this manner?

answer: Not answered

question: What kind of person is the narrator talking about?

answer: Not answered

question: Where is the narrator?

answer: Not answered

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator is lamenting the loss of a romantic partner


text:
SYED SHAHIDUL ISLAM () is a Bangladeshi musician and composer. Generally known as SHAHID and for his band Doorbin. He worked in 26 mixed album and released his three solo album.

Early life

Syed Shaidul Islam was born and raised in Chittagong, where he learned music, studying the harmonium under Soumyo Didi. None of his family members liked music, so he had to practiced his singing secretly. Shahid first got recognised as a singer as a student of Al Khan High School, when he won the first prize in an inter district 'Nazrul' song competition. Afterwards he studied music at Shilpokola Academy while he was a student at Chittagong City College. He formed a band named 'Lohitto' when he was a graduate student in Economics. Later, he moved to Dhaka. In 2004 he formed the band Doorbin with Sabbir and Noyon.

Career

Shahid is the chief vocalist of the band Doorbin.[1] In 2008 Shahid released his first solo album _Brishtir Gaan_. In 2011 he released his second solo album _Nilambori_ from which Ek Jibon was nominated for Meril Prothom Alo Awards.[2][3] He released a sequel Ek Jibon 2 in 2012.[4] The music video of the album Nilambori was scripted by Zahid Akbar and directed by Arfin Rumi.[5] He joined the collaborative album Bappi featuring 3 in 2012.[6] _Nil Chowa_, his third solo album, was released in 2013.[7] He collaborated with Porshi for the soundtrack of the movie Na Bola Bhalobasa.[8]

Solo album

-   _Bristir Gaan_ (2008)
-   _Nilambori_ (2011)[9]
-   _Nil Chowa_ (2013)

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

title: Syed Shahid

question: Who is Shahid?

answer: Syed Shahidul Islam is a Bangladeshi musician and composer.

question: Where is Shadhid from?

answer: Syed Shahidul Islam was born and raised in Chittagong.

question: How many albums has Shahid made?

answer: Shahid has three solo albums

question: When did Shahid release his first solo album?

answer: 2008

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: Syed Shahidul Islam, better known as Shahid, is a Bangladeshi musician and composer.


text:
[ José Zorrilla, author of _Traidor, confess y mártir_] _TRAIDOR, INCONFESO Y MÁRTIR_ (English: _Treacherous, Unconfessed, and Martyr_) is an 1849[1] Spanish three-act play by José Zorrilla, who also wrote _Don Juan Tenorio_. It is a historical drama in the Spanish Romantic style and is loosely based on a historical incident in which a Spanish baker, Gabriel de Espinosa, was prosecuted as an imposter for the missing King Sebastian of Portugal.[2][3]

The play's setting is less elaborate than that of many other plays written during the Romantic period, primarily because the author was interested in the character development of the protagonist Gabriel Espinoza.[4]

Setting

The play is set in Medina del Campo, a town in the Spanish province of Valladolid, and revolves around Gabriel Espinosa, an acclaimed pastry chef from the town of Madrigal.[5]

Synopsis

The play centers around the enigmatic personality of Gabriel Espinoza, who claims to be a pastry chef in Madrigal, but is suspected to be King Sebastian of Portugal. Espinoza is staying at an inn in Burgos with his daughter, Aurora. César, captain of the Third of Flanders, declares his chaste love to Aurora. She rejects him as a _galán_ (“ladies' man”), but offers her friendship. César does not believe that Espinoza is Aurora's father. Jealous of Espinoza, he tells the latter that he has been following him and Aurora from Madrigal by order of King Philip II of Spain.

King Philip II accuses Espinoza of attempting to take the throne by impersonating the late Portuguese monarch, Sebastian of Portugal.[6] Consequently, the mayor of Madrigal, Don Rodrigo de Santillana, arrests Espinoza. The mayor's son, César, who is in love with Aurora, helps Espinoza escape. However, Aurora is in love with her adoptive father and rejects César's advances. As a result of her refusal and rejection, César is enraged and orders the arrest of Espinoza and Aurora, imprisoning the two in Medina del Campo.

Espinoza is tortured so that he confesses to impersonating the Portuguese monarch but continues to claim to be an innocent baker. Meanwhile, the Marquis of Tavira in Portugal claims that Espinoza is, in fact, the King of Portugal. The Spanish monarch orders the mayor to hang Espinoza, ending his claim to the throne. The mayor releases Aurora but sends Espinoza, who insists that he is innocent, to the gallows. After Espinoza's death, a note is found that reveals that he was King Sebastian.[7]

Meaning of the title

The three adjectives that form the name of the play refer to King Sebastian of Portugal:

-   _Treacherous_ explains the situation of the Portuguese monarch, who resorts to a new identity to hide from justice, and becomes a traitor to Portugal.
-   _Unconfessed_ alludes to the interrogations suffered in Medina del Campo, where he denies, despite all the tortures, being the true king.
-   _Martyr_ because of his death defending his cause.

[1] Las literaturas hispánicas: España by Evelyn Picon Garfield,Iván A. Schulman

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5] https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35844979-traidor-inconfeso-y-m-rtir

[6]

[7] http://biblioteca.org.ar/libros/132200.pdf, p 147

title: Traidor, inconfeso y mártir

question: What is the play based on?

answer: The play is based on a historical incident in which a Spanish baker, Gabriel de Espinosa, was prosecuted as an imposter for the missing King Sebastian of Portugal.

question: Who has written the play?

answer: Jose Zorrilla.

question: Which place is the play set in?

answer: The play is set in a Spanish town province of Valladolid, called Medina del Campo.

question: What does the title mean?

answer: The title means - Treacherous, Unconfessed, and Martyr.

question: Write a ~6 sentence summary.

answer:
Traidor, confess y mártir is a play by Jose Zorrilla. The play revolves around a Spanish pastry chef from Madrigal, Gabriel de Espinosa. Cesar, the Mayor's son is in love with Espinoza's daughter, Aurora, but she refuses his advances. Cesar gets enraged at this and orders the arrest of the father and daughter saying Espinoza is impersonating King Sebastian.

Ultimately, Aurora is released and Espinoza sent to the gallows. After his death, a note reveals that he was indeed King Sebastian.


text: And God looked upon his creation. All broken up at the smallest level into fire, water, earth, and air. But He felt that there was something off. That it wasn't right, that there was a certain…lacking in the arrangement of the universe. These building blocks with which He would form all of existence were too rough, too misshapen to be used for the epitome of all His work. What would come after, what would think for itself would never feel at home in a universe so simplistic, so opposed to the inherent complexity of it all. And so God went smaller. And smaller. And smaller, until even He had to squint to see what he was working with. And so came into the world, protons, neutrons, electrons, and a whole slew of minuscule particles. He forced them together, into new and different forms. And so God put the finishing touches on the universe, arranging everything so that Mankind would by itself learn to be gods through manipulation, creation and destruction.

title: Prompt-Why Is Chemistry So Freaking Hard?

question: What's the main point of the story?

answer: God puts the finishing touches in the universe with particles so that Mankind can learn to be gods themselves.

question: What is it that God finds "off"?

answer: God finds his universe to be off due to a lacking in its arrangement.

question: What are the building blocks?

answer: The building blocks seem to be fire, water, earth, and air.

question: What is the solution in this story?

answer: God creates tiny particles so that the finishing touches on the universe can be made.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: God looks at his creation and finds that it's not quite right. God creates particles, like neutrons and protons, to put the finishing touches in the universe so that Mankind can learn to be gods themselves.


text:
This is my first time really attempting to write my own story. I posted it on /r/shortstorycritiques and as hoping /r/shortstories could give me some feedback too. I hope you enjoy it.

EDIT - minor fixes

Highway 99

It's past dusk. I'm southbound on Highway 99 and I have a speedometer to match it. The radio is spitting out some mix of Led Zeppelin and mariachi as static dances between the two. I turn the radio off. There's no comfort there, not tonight. All I can think about is her. The name Angie sneaks softly through my teeth as a quick smile creeps onto my face. It's a smile that lasts only a moment, already replaced by less comforting thoughts.

I found myself reflecting upon a fellow patron of the station I had stopped at earlier that night to refill on gas. As I waited in line to pay my dues while thinking about Angie my attention was abruptly averted to the man in front of me. Something wasn't right with him. He stood at the counter trying not to fall over while fumbling to find his wallet in the only back pocket left on his jeans. He had a bottle of gatorade and whatever cheap 40 oz of beer he had found at the register. He had no shirt, and had several scars scattered across his back. Where did he get those scars? What had he done? After what seemed to be minutes consumed of him searching that only pocket he finally realized his wallet wasn't there. Realizing his defeat he carefully shuffled around to face the door. He saw me. As he looked at me I looked right back at him, and I could see it. His eyes said it all; this wasn't his first failure, and it probably wouldn't be his last. I bought my fuel and filled the car's tank. Ready to go I looked up and saw the scarred man walking north. Where was he going? What would he find? Had he lost his Angie? Would he be on that lonely road if he still had her?

I step on the gas and watch the needle slowly work its way up, faltering slightly once it reaches 101mph as if it means to ask, "Are you sure about this, why are you in a rush?" I give it more, 104mph it says. Out here there's nothing but you, your thoughts, and a river of asphalt littered with other human beings encased in metal machines left to their own thoughts. Where am I going? Why am I rushing towards it? 107mph. What am I leaving behind. Am I running away from it? 108mph.

Billboards are a blur, and the other motorists now seem to be at a standstill compared to the speed I'm hitting. I can barely make out 70mph as I pass a speed sign screaming, "Slow down, be careful!" Speed doesn't matter, nothing except getting away matters right now. 111mph. I try to reassure myself that I'm just looking for the comfort of my bed, and that it'll make me feel better. I can't think if I'm asleep. 112mph. Just a little faster and nothing will catch up. Running is easier than facing these thoughts that weigh heavily on my conscience. None more troubling than the thought of Angie. 114mph. My fears, failures, and my ill transgressions will be behind me; a thing of the past. 115mph and the rev limiter kicks in. 99mph. The car groans as the needle drops. I can't run. There isn't a car fast enough nor a road long enough to outrun the things I've done. "I have to fix what I've done," I tell myself as I think of her again.

There's a sign off the side of the road, "Philip S. Raine Safety Roadside Rest Stop ahead," it says, "two miles." Who is this Philip Raine guy, and what did he do to get a couple of shitters, a snack machine, and a parking lot named after him. What makes him any different, I wonder. Did he have the same problems I did? Did he have an Angie as well? Did he hurt her? I decide to give Mr. Raine's rest stop a visit and pull off the 99.  I shake the idea that Mr. Raine and I might have anything in common. I need sleep and endless thoughts of Mr. Raine, the scarred man, or anything else won't bring me that. Tomorrow will be a long day, and the thought of her giving me another chance is just enough peace of mind so that I can sleep. It's dawn. I'm northbound on highway 99 and I have a speedometer to match it.

title: [NF] Highway 99

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

answer: The narrator is headed south on Highway 99 and increases his speed up to 115mph. His thoughts trouble him and focuses on a woman named Angie. The narrator's fears, failures and transgressions catch up to him despite his attempt to race away from them. When he realizes he cannot outrun the things he's done, he pulls over at a rest stop.


text:
Hi everyone, I have a small, irritating problem called "english project" that discusses the concept of tyranny. For the project I need to use a short story relating to the concept and I was hoping to use one about North Korea.

But alas, my google searching has brought me nowhere, so r/short stories, know of any short pieces that uses tyranny as theme, setting or motif? Or if a kind and generous writer would like to show off their talents and write a short story on tyranny or Korea, please go on ahead and make the day of a young student.

title: [Request] Short story about tyranny

question: What kind if request is being made?

answer: For someone to write a short story about tyranny or North Korea.

question: Who is making the request and why?

answer: A student is asking for the short story for an english project which they deem to be irritating. The student claims to have searched the internet and have found no useful results. But it is more likely that the student is simply too lazy to do their own homework.

question: How would people likely respond to this request?

answer: Since the student is not offering any form of compensation nor does the student appear to be sincere in their request for help, it is likely that readers of this request would consider that the student is simply being lazy and either ignore the request or express negativity towards the student.

question: What can the student do to improve the request they made?

answer:
- offer sufficient compensation

- provide ready-to-use research materials as basis for the short story

- remove any words that belittle the task (calling it an irritating problem), or are patronizing (asking for 'kind and generous' writers), and are outright embellishments (not finding anything on Google)

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: A student wants their homework to be done by someone else and has gone to Reddit's short stories subreddit to ask for help. The student is requesting for a short story about tyranny or about North Korea. According to the student, they have tried using Google but have not had any results they could use.


text:
In my hands I held a dandelion, one of those little yellow flowers that accompany ball of fluff that I was fond of blowing at and watching the little white parachutes fly off in to the sky. I twirled the flower between my fingers, having already used up the ball of fluff that had grown from the same set of leaves in the ground. My eyes scanned the ground for another ball of fluff, but none were in sight. When I looked back at the stem in my hands I saw that all the yellow pedals had turned black and were beginning to flake off of the stem, floating to the ground.

I studied the remains that were in my hand, until they were devoid of any structure and fell from my fingers as ashes. I was just a young child at the time, I don’t even recall the age of that memory. But it was the first inkling of what was to be the future.

I only had a couple pets as a child, a hamster, a dog, and a pair of goldfish. The hamster, Zoey, would run on his little wheel all day. Until I reached my hand into his cage and grabbed him from it. I held Zoey in my hand against my chest, while I petted him with my other hand. He was remarkably peaceful and calm. I kept petting him until my mother took him from my hand. She picked his limp body up from me and began screaming when she realized that he was dead.

Our dog, Dante, was my father’s animal. He curled up under my dad’s reclining chair when they watched TV. Dante was never interested in me, and when I would pet him he wouldn’t stand around long, always quickly finding some place to run off to. It was a day that we were taking Dante to the vet, when he was stuck in the back seat of my mom’s car with me. I had my hand laying on his back for the entire ride. When we got to the office Dante didn’t hop out of the car. He never moved again. My dad buried him in the back yard.

The gold fish out lived my mother. She kept them in the living room and would feed them herself before she went to bed. They were her ‘fair fish’ that she had won at the state fair and had nurtured for years. When my mom passed, I fed them for the last day of their lives. They were belly up afterwards.

My mother was chronically ill. She never held a job in my memory, and she finally passed away from illness when I was only twelve. At the funeral my dad held my hand for most of the service, until he began coughing so fitfully that he had to walk from the church and clear his lungs outside.

At twelve I couldn’t figure out why the path I took to school was decorated by dead plants on both sides. Kids in my class got ill often, and I had a lot of substitute teachers.

Years and years passed before anyone connected the dots. I simply thought that death was a common fact of life. But as more people that I knew piled up, as I lost one high school friend after another, people noticed. They decided that I had a disease, that somehow death followed me.

I was sent to quarantine where men in white suits tested me over and over. They said the disease was airborne, that I didn’t need to touch for death to spread. The men in the white suits began to fall ill, then dead. They first thought that their suits needed to be upgraded, that somehow they were breathing in my deadly fumes. After it continued to happen they sent me to London, then to Zaire, where the outcome was still the same, anyone in the same building as me died.

Whatever it was I was infecting others with I was immune to and I was the only carrier of.

I was kept in a vault, deep inside of a mountain. I felt like a piece of gold or some valuable jewel. I heard murmurs that I was to be used as a weapon. I was to be sent to countries to clear them of opposition.

But my potential for disaster was too great for their fail-safes. An animal that wasn’t meant to be caged cannot be. The people controlling the vault died away.

One last attempt was made to secure me onto a plane headed to Chernobyl, to live in isolation, maybe to simply die in isolation. But as the doors to my room were unlocked they released a plague that had been held back by those led lined portals. Everyone within the mountain died instantly.

I walked from the vault, through hallways of lifeless bodies. By the time I found my way out of the maze of quarantine I had passed hundreds of newly extinct people. I could no longer look at their faces, they only made me wish that I would die myself.

Outside of the mountain more lay dead. I crouched beside the body of a young woman, her face was unlined, her eyes were open, even lifeless I found her attractive. I felt tears on my cheeks when I realized that I would never know her name.

II

I think I’m twenty-five now, I could be older or younger, it’s been hard to keep track of days, weeks and years. It feels like a dream or a movie where I’m the only one left alive.

I wonder from place to place. Since I left the mountain I haven’t head a scream or a cry. I am left here alone to wonder why during all of this time I haven’t died. Everywhere the smell of rotting death is in the air. Bugs don’t even crawl on the slowly decomposing bodies.

As I walk through this valley, this valley of death, I haven’t seen a live body in years. I must be the last one left.

My water is running low and I’ve resorted to drinking from puddles that smell of rotting bodily fluids. My body aches with hunger, its growing weak. The pain that I’m going through tells me that this isn’t any dream.

Falling to my knees, I scream at the top of my lungs. I can hear my voice echo back to me, all the way from the sun. Nobody comes. When it is all said and done I fall to the sand, too weak to push myself back up, to dehydrated to shed tears. There I see what has eluded me since I was a child, a small yellow dandelion wiggling in the breeze, a small white ball of puff, beside it. It’s the only thing alive I’ve seen. With my last strength I reach out, and my hand falls on its base. It withers and dies.  I wonder why am I the last one?

title: Sickness (1200 Words)

question: Why do the flower petals turn black?

answer: They have died.

question: Why have they died?

answer: The narrator touched them.

question: What is the narrator's ability?

answer: Everyone and everything who breathes air in their vicinity dies.

question: Why might this be a curse?

answer: The narrator wants desperately to be among living things.

question: Write a ~6 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator has an incurable disease of which they are the only known carrier, and which kills everyone and everything around them. They have been in a vault somewhere for years. As a child, they were sent off and experimented on in quarantine. The men in white suits said their disease was airborne. The narrator was sent all over the world and still everyone in the building where they were died. Now they are utterly and completely alone, wanting to die.


text:
     It wouldn’t last for forever. Everyone had the thought in the back of their minds at one point or another. The gods of pop music had fallen. N’Sync, The Backstreet Boys, and Destiny’s Child all had their moment in the spotlight, but that moment had passed. The executives of the music industry knew this. They also that music of the present was paling in comparison to music of the past. Justin Timberlake is a dancing monkey compared to Bob Dylan. TATU became small when Simon and Garfunkel were mentioned. They needed to solve this problem, so they came together to create a plan to continue to milk the cash cow. This plan that they eventually came up with was called Project Tween.

     Project Tween was kept secret amongst the group. It was truthfully brilliant, and all they needed was a lot of money and some scientific help, which can easily be bought. The idea was to create millions of highly advanced androids that could take the place of girls between the ages of 10-13 throughout the country. These machines would be indistinguishable from the girls. The main goal of the tweens is to boost the sales of all of the people involved in their creation. The creators have also created a name for their organization; The Illuminati. Originally the Illuminati consisted of only music agents who wanted to save their careers and make it big but over the years, members outside of the music realm had been added to the secret society.

     The mission of the tweens is to infiltrate the homes of the parents of their target. There, they will sprinkle the real girl with “pixie dust”, a military grade sleeping agent that will allow them to sleep for 3 or 4 years and feel like it’s only been a night, and bring them back to headquarters. From here, they assume the identity of the girl. At this point, they’re programmed to be hooked on whatever music receives the most money, no matter what the quality.

     They will want everything that has to do with the artist they are programmed to support. They will buy posters, merchandise, concert tickets, and, most importantly, they will use social media, such as Facebook and Instagram, to spread photos and videos of the artist, and posts about how in love they are with him. This is an attempt to contribute to the author’s following and fan base. This will get him or her more endorsements, late-night appearances, and general fame. One of the scientific breakthroughs of the tweens is their fueling system. The tweens literally need Starbucks coffee to survive. The CEO of Starbucks is one of the main funders of the Illuminati, and he wanted to make sure that he got the most bang for his buck. They will also treat the beverages like they are pop stars, and blog, tweet, and post about them.

    So here we are in the year 2014. This system has carried on seamlessly since its inception in the mid-2000’s, and originality has begun to fade. Artists no longer have to try to create meaningful songs. Their loving fans exist to boost their lyrics to the heavens. Stars have also become worse role models. They’re aware that, no matter what, their fans will love them. They can get into bar fights, drag races, and drug circles with little to no consequence. If they’re caught, they won’t face jail, but will merely go to “rehab” and write a song about how they’re the victims. But these “artists” aren’t aware that the fans are robots. They think they’ve captivated the hearts of girls all across the country by being themselves. They think they deserve the fame, that they’ve earned the fame. Honestly, they’re just regular people who happened upon a stroke of luck. Anyone can lip sync an hour-long concert with a million mindless machines in the crowd, but only few can inspire with true music and meaning. Few can end wars or invoke social change with just a guitar and a message, and these people are rare to come by in the field of generic artists out there today.

title: Project Tween (Social Satire 691 words)

question: How do the Tweens replace the real girls?

answer: The real girls are sprinkled with 'pixie dust' which puts them to sleep for up to four years during which time the replicant will infiltrate the original's home.

question: What is he point of Project Tween?

answer: To keep generic music relevant in order to make he music industry money.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: Project Tween is a conspiracy designed by the Illuminati whereby girls are kidnapped and replaced by machines who worship generic pop-stars in order to make them money. The girls are fuelled by Starbucks whose CEO is also a member of the Illuminati.


text:
Viktor sneaked inside the remnants of a collapsed parking garage just in time. Two Toxins walked by, talking loudly, boasting about their 'accomplishments,' such as beating up a defenceless twelve-year-old. Cowards. But with Tox in command, and his private army of Toxins patrolling the streets, this was the way of the world.

Viktor himself had been recruited as a Toxin. He was plucked from the street and had to start training under strict surveillance. After the first round, he received an 'E' rating, meaning he had the build, speed and intelligence to train for the elite squad, Tox' personal guards. This also meant the surveillance measured were slacked. Within a week Viktor had crafted a knife of a piece of bent metal and some charred wood, held it to a guards' throat and ran of. That's why he had to be so careful to stay out of sight.

The wisest thing would be to hide, to run off into the woods and never go back. But Viktor knew he was the only one capable of overthrowing the reign of the maniac Tox had become. He had seen an inside view of the guarding system. He was lean, swift and bright. He could craft a weapon out of nearly anything. Most importantly, he wasn't afraid of some blood on his hands.

It's not as if he walks through the street randomly cutting out young boys' gobs, like some of the Toxins do. But he wasn't one to let harm come upon himself and he wielded his knife in any way necessary. When the Toxins were gone, Viktor crept out of hiding and continued his path. At seventeen, he was one of the oldest boys still alive. When the collision drew near, it was decided that all fifteen-year-olds would live. They were old enough to take care of themselves and eventually reproduce, but young enough to adapt and create government in the new world. When all the fifteen-year-olds were saved, the remainder of places in the bunkers was distributed to anyone between twelve and eighteen. Viktor had been lucky, unlike many.

The silence was pierced by a shuffling sound and Viktor turned with a start. There was no one there, except a rat gnawing on something that looked suspiciously much like human flesh. Irritated by the distraction, Viktor threw one of his knifes. The rat let out a shriek as it was skewered, then dropped dead. It tumbled off of the beam it was crawling over, into the basement of the garage. It was a shame to lose that knife, but Viktor was happy. In the end, he would only need one. Tox' lair was in sight and his training, carried out all alone in the woods, proved solid. He stowed away his other weapons and starting creeping along the final mile.

title: 500 word post-apocalyptic story I wrote today. I hope you like it :)

question: Are Toxins like soldiers?

answer: It seems like it.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: Viktor had been recruited as a Toxin. Actually they grabbed him and forced him into it. Viktor was lucky though and fought his way out. Now he makes extra care to stay hidden. As one of the oldest boys still alive, Viktor felt lucky that it had been decided that fifteen-year-olds could live.


text:
The NORTH MALL DISTILLERY was an Irish whiskey distillery located in Cork City, Ireland. In its day one of the most famous distilleries in Ireland,[1] the distillery was destroyed by a fire in 1920. Distilling operations never resumed at the North Mall after the fire, and it was later converted into a bottling and storage facility which was used by Irish Distillers until 2007, at which point operations were transferred to Irish Distillers' other bottling facilities in Dublin.[2] In the mid-2000s, much of the site was jointly acquired by University College Cork and Mercy University Hospital, and has since been redeveloped.[3]

History

[The North Mall Distillery, circa 1886] The exact origin of the distillery is uncertain, however, it is said to have been established in 1779 by two brothers, Thomas and Francis Wise.[4][5] The distillery was located on the north banks of the River Lee, on the site of an old Dominican Friary known as the Abbey of St. Francis or the North Abbey.[6] After its establishment, the distillery expanded rapidly, in particular, after the reform of the Distillation Act in 1823. In 1827, production was reported as just over 320,000 gallons,[7] up from 312,000 gallons in 1821,[8] and by 1833, had rise to some 400,000 gallons per annum.[9]

In 1867, Francis Wise, a nephew and son of the aforementioned founders, sold the distillery to the Cork Distillers Company (CDC) which began as an amalgamation of four Cork distilleries: the North Mall, and three others: Daly's, the Green, and the Watercourse. A year later, in 1868, Murphy's Midleton Distillery also joined the CDC, bringing five Cork distilleries under common ownership.

In the years following the amalgamation, the North Mall proved to be one of CDC's more promising concerns. When Alfred Barnard, the British historian visited the North Mall in 1886, the distillery occupied 23 acres, and had a staff of 250 people, and an output of 500,000 gallons per annum.[10] The distillery, Barnard reported, was amongst the cleanest, and best-kept of all those he had visited in Britain and Ireland, and marketed a whiskey known as _Wise's Cork Old Pot Still Whiskey_ in Ireland, England, “the Colonies” and America.[11] By contrast, some of CDC's other distilleries were less fortunate. Daly's shut in 1869, shortly after its takeover by CDC, while distillation of whiskey likely ceased at the Green in 1870, although it may later produced gin for a period in the 20th century.[12] In the mid-1880s, the Watercourse Distillery was mothballed, so that by the turn of the century, only two of CDC's five distilleries, North Mall and Midleton remained in production.[13]

Unfortunately, in 1920 a fire broke out at the North Mall distillery, completely destroying its five-storey mill, and causing significant damage to most, if not all of the production buildings.[14] Had the Irish whiskey industry not been in the midst of a crisis, with most distilleries enduring severe financial hardship, the distillery might have been rebuilt. However, facing an uncertain economic outlook, a decision was taken to concentrate production at Midleton, rather than to renovate the North Mall Distillery. Subsequently, the buildings which were most badly damaged were demolished, and those that survived the fire converted to storage facilities. In 1964, a modern, state of the art bottling facility was added to the site of the distillery by Cork Architect Frank Murphy (architect).[15]

[Cork Distillers Bottling plant, 1964]

In 1966, with the Irish distilleries still facing an uncertain future, CDC merged with two of the other remaining Dublin distilleries, John Jameson & Co. and John Powers & Co., to form Irish Distillers. Under Irish Distillers, the North Mall continued to be used as a bottling and packaging facility until mid-2007, when it was closed. Irish Distillers cited falling domestic sales of whiskey and gin following excise tax hikes, and the loss of the Tullamore Dew bottling contract as factors contributing to its closure.[16]

Much of the site was subsequently redeveloped and incorporated into University College Cork and the Mercy University Hospital. However, some remnants of the original distillery remain. A brick chimney stack built by CDC for the sum of £5,000 between 1877–1888, originally with an elevation of 160 feet,[17] but now somewhat reduced in height, remains as a protected structure.[18] In addition, a residence of the distillery's former owner, Francis Wise, also a protected building, is now part of University College Cork's _North Mall / Distillery Fields Campus_. The building, known as _Distillery House_, is situated at the junction of North Mall and Wise's Hill, one of a handful of local place names tracing their origin to the distillery's former owners.[19][20]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

[13]

[14]

[15] http://architectureireland.ie/the-cork-distillers-bottling-plant-1961-1964

[16]

[17]

[18]

[19]

[20]

title: North Mall Distillery

question: How would you describe the North Mall Distillery?

answer: The North Mall Distillery was an Irish whiskey distillery.

question: Where is the North Mall Distillery located?

answer: It is located in Cork City, Ireland.

question: What happened to the North Mall Distillery in 1920?

answer: A fire broke out at the North Mall Distillery which destroyed its five-story mill and caused significant damage to most of the production buildings.

question: What was the site used for once the North Mall distillery was destroyed in a fire?

answer: The site was redeveloped and incorporated into the University College Cork and the Mercy University Hospital.

question: How much whiskey was produced in 1827 from the North Mall Distillery?

answer: In 1827, over 320,000 gallons of whiskey was produced from the North Mall Distillery.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: This article describes the history and significance of the North Mall Distillery, and Irish whiskey distillery in Ireland.


text:
By Colleen Coble

[]

Hello, my name is Colleen Coble, and I’m a major extrovert. I know you’ve all heard all authors are introverts and huddle in their closets with a laptop while they write, but it’s not true. There are some of us strange creatures around who prefer parties to privacy.

People sometimes ask what is the most challenging part of writing, and for those of us who are extroverts, it’s the solitude. There are weeks when I’m on a tight deadline and don’t leave the house except for church on Sunday. That can take its toll on my mental energy. What’s a girl to do?

Answer: social media! I know, I know, that’s another thing you’ve heard. Social media is the bane of our existence, and it’s something we have to do because our publishers and readers expect it. But I want to challenge you to turn it around and think of it as something beneficial for you as well. You will make great friends and find awesome support online if you change your attitude.

First off, figure out which social media speaks to you the most. Blogging, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, or Periscope are all valuable to you if you enjoy them. I’ve tried them all, but Facebook is my favorite. I have instant interaction with readers the moment I hop over there.

Second, be yourself. Don’t talk about your books all the time. Reveal who you really are. Put down your mask. What are your interests outside of your books? Mine is health, and I’m always posting articles about how we can use food to make use healthier. My readers all know I’m a health nut, and they often share things of interest with me as well. My characters are likely to eat a gluten-free, sugar-free diet and using essential oils so my books follow my interests as well. And I love coffee and The Walking Dead.

Third, treat your readers as friends. Answer their questions, respond to their comments, and share their posts as well. It’s all about interaction. Encourage them to share their lives with you as well as sharing yours with them.

My readers have given me so much: encouragement on the dark days, laughter, prayers, companionship, and so much more. When those days of tight deadlines fall on my head, I have a host of friends available at my keyboard to keep me company. It’s made solitude much more bearable for this mega-extrovert, but these tips will help you reach your readers as well even if you crave solitude. You can always shut your computer!

[]

I know you’re thinking this takes too much time, but it really doesn’t. That’s an excuse writers use to avoid doing anything on social media because they dread it. If you change your attitude about it and see it as talking with friends, it will seem much less onerous, and I think you’ll find yourself with more friends than you ever thought was possible. I sure have!

So how about you? If you’re an extrovert like me, how do you handle the isolation?
___________________________________________________________________

[]

Best-selling autor Colleen Coble’s novels have won or finaled in awards ranging from the Best Books of Indiana, the ACFW Carol Award, the Romance Writers of America RITA, the Holt Medallion, the Daphne du Maurier, National Readers’ Choice and the Booksellers Best. She has more than three million books in print and writes romantic mysteries because she loves to see justice prevail. Coble is CEO of American Christian Fiction Writers. She lives with her husband, Dave, in Indiana. To keep up with Colleen Coble, visitwww.colleencoble.com, become a fan onFacebook (colleencoblebooks) or follow her onTwitter (@colleencoble).

question: What does the text say about writing?

answer: The author claims that the most challenging part of writing for extroverts is solitude. Social media is something that helps aid this feeling of loneliness. Support online is something beneficial to them.

question: What does the text say about social media?

answer: According to the author, social media helps extroverts in isolation feel less lonely. Being an extrovert herself, being forced to isolate herself while writing is not something she is accustomed to.

question: What does the text say about the process of writing?

answer: The author claims that when writing to your audience, you need to first figure out which social media you would like to use the most. When writing, just be yourself. Treat your readers like your friends and answer their questions.

question: What does the text say about the author?

answer: The author is an extrovert. She has a hard time isolating herself when working and her answer to this is social media. When writing to her audience, she claims you should just be yourself and treat your readers like your friends.


text:
 [Divorce. Torn photograph of wedding cake topper]
 Credit: malerapaso/Getty Images

The divorce rate among opposite-sex couples in England and Wales has reached a record low, with marriages now lasting for an average of 12.2 years.

This 2017 figure is the joint highest on record, tied with 1972, and is an increase of 0.2 years compared to 2016.

In 2017 the rate of divorces among opposite-sex couples in England and Wales was 8.4 per 1,000 married couples, the lowest it has been since 1973.

Divorce rates fell among all age groups between 2016 and 2017 apart from among those aged over 60 where rates stayed steady at 1.6 per 1,000 couples.

The ONS, who produce the figures, noted that this decrease in the prevalence of divorce is likely to be due to increases in the average ages at which people get married.

Their report states that "age at marriage is considered to be closely linked to the risk of divorce with those marrying in their teens and early twenties being at greater risk."

The average age of men in opposite-sex couples at the time of marriage now stands at 37.5 years, while for women marrying men it is 35.1 - both these figures are close to 10 years higher than they were in the early 1970s.

Divorce rates in England and Wales have been steadily falling for the past 13 years after peaking in the early 90s following a sustained increase that began in 1971 after the Divorce Reform Act came into force.

The 1980s produced the least successful marriages

The ONS also produces figures showing what proportion of marriages in any given year subsequently ended in divorce. You can explore this data using the interactive tool below.

Of  the 344,334 couples who tied the knot in 1983 a whopping 43 per cent subsequently divorced, compared to just 27 per cent of marriages from 1963.

There are also far fewer early divorces these days compared to recent decades.

Of the 311,564 marriages in 1992, 11.2 per cent had ended in divorce after just five years. This figure had fallen to 6.4 per cent for those who married in 2013.

Unreasonable behaviour the most common reason for divorce

At 62 per cent, the majority of the opposite-sex divorces in 2017 were petitioned for by the wife. However, this number has fallen fairly significantly of late with it being more usual for in excess of 70 per cent of divorces being granted to the wife up until the turn of the millennium.

Unreasonable behaviour was the grounds given for close to half of the divorces granted in 2017, making it the most common reason given for separation.

Husbands are far less likely than wives to petition for divorce on the grounds of unreasonable behaviour or adultery, but far more likely to petition on the grounds of separation.

question: What was the rate of divorces among opposite-sex couples in England and Wales in 2017?

answer: In 2017 the rate of divorces among opposite-sex couples in England and Wales was 8.4 per 1,000 married couples.

question: What is the average age of men and women in opposite-sex couples at the time of marriage in 2017?

answer: The average age of men at the time of marriage in 2017 stands at 37.5 years, while for women marrying men it is 35.1 years.

question: Do the divorce in England and Wales rates increase?

answer: No, the divorce rates have been falling for 13 years.

question: When marriages were the least successful?

answer: Marriages were the least successful in the 1980s.

question: What is the most common reason for divorce?

answer: The most common reason for divorce is unreasonable behavior.

question: Why do the divorce rates fall?

answer: Likely because due to the increases in the average ages at which people get married.

question: Write a ~6 sentence summary.

answer: The author gives statistics about opposite-sex couples in England and Wales. The divorce rate has reached a record low ( 8.4 per 1,000 married); marriages last for an average of 12.2 years. This decrease in the prevalence of divorce is likely is due to increases in the average ages at which people get married. The average age of men at the time of marriage in 2017 stands at 37.5 years, while for women marrying men, it is 35.1 years. Unreasonable behavior is the most common reason given for separation (close to half of the divorces granted in 2017). Wives are more likely than husbands to petition for divorce (62%).


text: He is a not so simple man with an odd beginning. He was born a millionaire. He had everything he could ever ask for. Then one tragic day, his parents were taken from him at a young age. He could have let this tragedy take him over. Destroy him from the inside. He refused. For years he trained in both mind and body. He overcame his only fear. He looked it straight in the face and used it to his advantage. And while others fear the darkness, he uses it as a weapon. No one can know when he will strike. One thing they are sure of is that he will come forth from the welcoming embrace of the shadows, striking fear into the heart of any man. Some will freeze, completely unable to move. Others will try to run. They won’t get far. He will catch them in a matter of seconds. To criminals, he is the monster under the bed. To others, he is the father stopping these monsters from taking you away. Some men, the lucky ones, will walk away unscathed. The others will not be so lucky. Nightmares will ensue. When they wake from the dream, he will be in the corner of their filthy prison cell. He lunges at them. As they are screaming, some even for their mother, he will vanish. The strongest willed men will go insane after a single encounter. Some however, are already insane, and they work to stop this man from taking down their own kind. A crazy inmate from the Asylum just outside the city. A deranged Clown and his crazy girlfriend. Some are simply unnatural. A Crocodile that walks on two legs. A man exposed to chemicals that give him inhuman strength. But in the end, only one man can stop him. Himself. He will be his own downfall. But for now, he is a hero. The silent guardian that will protect those whom he will never meet, even at the cost of his own life. He is The Knight.

title: The Knight

question: Who is this excerpt talking about?

answer: Batman

question: Who are the villains the excerpt mentions?

answer: Mad Hatter, the Joker and Harley Quinn, Killer Croc, Bane.

question: Where does the story take place?

answer: Doesn't say, but it's Gotham city.

question: What is his only fear that he uses to his advantage?

answer: Bats

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: The story provides a generalized genesis of Bruce Wayne, the Batman. It describes his rich upbringing, the loss of his parents, the transformation of bats from his worst nightmare to a symbol behind which he rallies to strike fear into the hearts of evildoers. In vague terms, it describes his super hero action against criminals and super villains, describing his nemeses abstractly.


text:
37TH LONDON FILM CRITICS CIRCLE AWARDS

22 January 2017

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

Film of the Year:
LA LA LAND

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

British Film of the Year:
I, DANIEL BLAKE

The 37TH LONDON FILM CRITICS' CIRCLE AWARDS, honouring the best in film for 2016, were announced by the London Film Critics' Circle on 22 January 2017.[1][2]

Winners and nominees

Film of the Year

_LA LA LAND_

-   _American Honey_
-   _Fire at Sea_
-   _I, Daniel Blake_
-   _Love & Friendship_
-   _Manchester by the Sea_
-   _Moonlight_
-   _Nocturnal Animals_
-   _Son of Saul_
-   _Toni Erdmann_

Foreign Language Film of the Year

_TONI ERDMANN_

-   _Fire at Sea_
-   _Son of Saul_
-   _Things to Come_
-   _Victoria_

British/Irish Film of the Year

_I, DANIEL BLAKE_

-   _American Honey_
-   _High-Rise_
-   _Love & Friendship_
-   _Sing Street_

Documentary of the Year

_FIRE AT SEA_

-   _The Beatles: Eight Days a Week – The Touring Years_
-   _Cameraperson_
-   _The Eagle Huntress_
-   _Life, Animated_

Actor of the Year

CASEY AFFLECK – _MANCHESTER BY THE SEA_

-   Adam Driver – _Paterson_
-   Andrew Garfield – _Hacksaw Ridge_
-   Jake Gyllenhaal – _Nocturnal Animals_
-   Peter Simonischek – _Toni Erdmann_

Actress of the Year

ISABELLE HUPPERT – _THINGS TO COME_

-   Amy Adams – _Arrival_
-   Kate Beckinsale – _Love & Friendship_
-   Sandra Hüller – _Toni Erdmann_
-   Emma Stone – _La La Land_

Supporting Actor of the Year

MAHERSHALA ALI – ''MOONLIGHT''
TOM BENNETT – _LOVE & FRIENDSHIP_

-   Jeff Bridges – _Hell or High Water_
-   Shia LaBeouf – _American Honey_
-   Michael Shannon – _Nocturnal Animals_

Supporting Actress of the Year

NAOMIE HARRIS – _MOONLIGHT_

-   Viola Davis – _Fences_
-   Greta Gerwig – _20th Century Women_
-   Riley Keough – _American Honey_
-   Michelle Williams – _Manchester by the Sea_

British/Irish Actor of the Year

ANDREW GARFIELD – _HACKSAW RIDGE_ AND _SILENCE_

-   Tom Bennett – _Love & Friendship_ and _David Brent: Life on the Road_
-   Hugh Grant – _Florence Foster Jenkins_
-   Dave Johns – _I, Daniel Blake_
-   David Oyelowo – _A United Kingdom_ and _Queen of Katwe_

British/Irish Actress of the Year

KATE BECKINSALE – _LOVE & FRIENDSHIP_

-   Rebecca Hall – _Christine_
-   Naomie Harris – _Moonlight_, _Our Kind of Traitor_ and _Collateral Beauty_
-   Ruth Negga – _Loving_ and _Iona_
-   Hayley Squires – _I, Daniel Blake_

Young British/Irish Performer of the Year

LEWIS MACDOUGALL – _A MONSTER CALLS_

-   Ruby Barnhill – _The BFG_
-   Sennia Nanua – _The Girl with All the Gifts_
-   Anya Taylor-Joy – _The Witch_, _Morgan_ and _Split_
-   Ferdia Walsh-Peelo – _Sing Street_

Director of the Year

LÁSZLÓ NEMES – _SON OF SAUL_

-   Maren Ade – _Toni Erdmann_
-   Damien Chazelle – _La La Land_
-   Barry Jenkins – _Moonlight_
-   Kenneth Lonergan – _Manchester by the Sea_

Screenwriter of the Year

KENNETH LONERGAN – _MANCHESTER BY THE SEA_

-   Maren Ade – _Toni Erdmann_
-   Damien Chazelle – _La La Land_
-   Barry Jenkins – _Moonlight_
-   Whit Stillman – _Love & Friendship_

Breakthrough British/Irish Filmmaker

BABAK ANVARI – _UNDER THE SHADOW_

-   Mike Carey – _The Girl with All the Gifts_
-   Guy Hibbert – _Eye in the Sky_ and _A United Kingdom_
-   Peter Middleton and James Spinney – _Notes on Blindness_
-   Rachel Tunnard – _Adult Life Skills_

British/Irish Short Film

BRADY HOOD – _SWEET MADDIE STONE_

-   Duncan Cowles and Ross Hogg –_Isabella_
-   Rene Pannevis – _Jacked_
-   Sofia Safanova – _Tamara_
-   Natasha Waugh – _Terminal_

Technical Achievement

_VICTORIA_ – STURLA BRANDTH GRØVLEN, CINEMATOGRAPHY

-   _American Honey_ – Robbie Ryan, cinematography
-   _Arrival_ – Sylvain Bellemare, sound design
-   _High-Rise_ – Mark Tildesley, production design
-   _Jackie_ – Mica Levi, music
-   _Jason Bourne_ – Gary Powell, stunt coordination
-   _La La Land_ – Justin Hurwitz, music
-   _Moonlight_ – Nat Sanders and Joi McMillon, editing
-   _Rogue One: A Star Wars Story_ – Neal Scanlan, visual effects
-   _Sing Street_ – Gary Clark and John Carney, music

Dilys Powell Award

-   Isabelle Huppert

[1]

[2]

title: London Film Critics Circle Awards 2016

question: What was the purpose of the 37th London Film Critics Circle Awards?

answer: It honored the best in film for 2016.

question: What was the Film of the Year?

answer: La La Land

question: Who were the nominees for Foreign Language Film of the Year?

answer: Toni Erdmann, Fire at Sea, Son of Saul, Things to Come, Victoria

question: Who was Director of the Year?

answer: Lazlo Nemes for Son of Saul

question: How many categories are there to win?

answer: 17, including the Dilys Powell Award

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: This article covers the 37th London Film Critics Circle Awards. It honored the best in film in 2016.


text:
“The court recognizes that all your papers were submitted on time and all the forms were completed in full, and while I personally acknowledge your proposal was well-written and you gave an abundance of credible evidence and reputable sources to support your argument, it is the opinion of this court that your argument just isn't sufficient enough to validate the reasons to grant your request. And thus the court denies your request to commit suicide.”

“But your honor! What about section five that states the government acknowledges the philosophies behind the 'social contract' and thus if I am to reject such contract it is well within my right -”

“Sorry, unfortunately the court does not recognize that argument as valid. The spirit of the philosophy of the social contract is not so you can reject all of society and kill yourself. The social contract is something you take part of by being alive.”

“BUT I DON'T WANT TO BE ALIVE!”

“Unfortunately, sir, you must abide my the laws of this nation, just like everyone else. Feel free to start a petition or what not. All such rules can be found in the social contract. But our ruling stays. You are sentenced to a long and hopefully fruitful life.”

It's midday and the morning rain continued its steadily pouring a light drizzle. The city streets are wet and shiny, the lights reflecting off the water. With the rain comes the cold and an ominous feeling. It is the feeling that it could rain harder, a thunderstorm could come. It is the feeling the roads being slicker could cause more accidents. Its the feeling of autumn turning into winter. It is a feeling of change hanging in the air.

Raphael Orefice stares out the window at the passing traffic longingly. Many of the cars barrel through the intersection, splashing water as they go. The roads are to slick, there's no way they'd be able to stop in time.

“Cheer up Ralph. So your day in court didn't go as you planned.”

“It's Raph. Raphael. No ell.”

“Oh sorry, Raphael.”

“It's no problem. Can I get a refill?”

Brennan came back with the coffee and filled his mug. “So what's your plans now?”

“I don't know Brendan. I guess I gotta check the papers. Look up job postings. I guess if I gotta be alive I better get a job so I can keep on living. It feels like we spend the majority of our lives working. Big fucking waste.”

“Come on, Raff. It ain't that bad. I mean, in actuality, assuming you have a forty hour a week job, you spend just as much time at home, more if you include sleep. And then there are always the weekends. So you literally aren't spending the majority of your life working. Most of your hours are for you. And even work isn't too bad if you make friends. Like talking to you is making my job a whole lot easier.”

“Thanks Brendan. I appreciate the sentiment. Plus, technically, you're right. So I can't argue.”

“You should try to see what the government is offering. Government jobs are very good in terms of both pay and retirement. You might want to consider it.”

“Yeah, I guess I might look into it.”

“And Raph?”

“Yeah?”

“It's Brennan. Two 'n's, no 'd.'”

Raphael slowly sipped his coffee watching the cars outside splash around in the streets. It seemed very precarious to him. He felt that lingering gloom. He felt dread. He saw a young woman, bundled up with a chic umbrella waiting at the crosswalk. A big city bus was coming down the street towards the intersection. Raphael imagined the woman haphazardly stepping into the street, unaware of the city bus. He imagined running out of the cafe, darting towards the woman. Maybe she would be in the middle of the street as the city bus came. It would slam the brakes but the streets would be too slick. It couldn't stop. Raphael would dash out into the streets and push the woman to safety, out of the path of the bus. The bus would then plow into him. He would be mangled. Broken limbs, broken ribs. Fractured skull. But he could survive it. He'd be in a hospital bed. And the woman? She'd land in the middle of the street. What if a car was coming?

Raphael shook himself from his dumb day dream. He laughed to himself. Took a sip of coffee. Looked at Brennan who was chatting to another customer and looked back at the woman at the crosswalk. Maybe she would be fine in the middle of the street. No cars were coming. She could get up and go to safety. Maybe she would visit him in the hospital. Bring him flowers. Be real thankful. She looked attractive. Young and attractive. A heavy sigh and Raphael looked away, up to at the gray sky. He imagined life on a moon colony. Maybe that would be different. Maybe he just needs more regulations. Life in a moon colony, everyone has a job, everyone has a set schedule, he imagined. It's like clockwork; everything has its place. Life on Earth? It's like a bunch of rats running around just trying to figure out the easiest way to get a slice of cheese. There is a semblance of order, but there is decay. The homeless on the streets proved that to him. He could be a vagabond. He could be a vagrant. There is room to be listless, to be without purpose on Earth. There is no set path. It is freedom, but freedom is chaos. There are no homeless people on the moon. Maybe they are lonely, maybe they have regrets, but they sure as hell have a place and purpose.

Raphael thought he heard some distant thunder and looked back at the streets.. The woman was no longer at the crosswalk. Cars stopped at the traffic signal were given the green and started up, approaching in waves. With the rain, the traffic lights reflected in bleary streaks, the whole scene seemed like one big watercolor. An urban gray watercolor of traffic lights. Mechanical yet expressionistic.

title: Earth Base, 2099

question: Summarize the relationship between Raphael and Brennan?

answer: Raphael and Brennan are coworkers. It seems they don't know each other well because both of them mispronounce each other's names. However, they are friendly enough where Brennan feels the need to ask about Raphael's court date, and suggest he cheer up. Brennan also gives Raphael advice, and Raphael is appreciative.

question: What does the story say about Raphael's desires?

answer: Raphael has a desire not to be alive. It seems the root of this has to be because of his lack of desire to work and waste his life away. He imagines a scenario where he rescues a woman from being hit by a city bus, and the woman later visits him at the hospital, which hints at a desire for possible connection purpose or heroism. He day dreams of living on a moon colony with a set schedule, and also being a vagrant without purpose. It seems he desires to be free of the responsibilities of the world he lives in.

question: What does the story say about jobs?

answer: Through the lens of Raphael, jobs are seen as something one has to waste there life away doing in order to keep living. It's only through distractions like talking to your coworker that make it easier. Raphael is told about government jobs, where pay and retirement is good. However, he'd rather have a set job and a set job on a moon colony than have to go look for a job.

question: Summarize everything relating to Raphael's mother.


text:
Where am I? I don’t think I’m home; all I see is black with little outline of furniture. Ok, lets think about last night, where was I? Fuck, I don’t remember! Ok, What’s the last thing I remember? Driving to the bar I think. Fuck. I don’t even know that or what time it is, better check my phone. Shit! It’s not here.

(RING,RING,RING)

My phone! It’s on the table over there.
“Hello?” No response
“Hello?”
“Turn Around”
“What?” With shakiness in his voice.
“Turn Around” said with a harsh tone, almost a yell.
The man slowly moved his head to see behind him. There was rope hanging from a wooden banister, which was now visible in the phone light. The end of the rope was tied in a noose. Under the rope was a rustic small chair with a piece of paper nailed on the seat.
“What the fuck is going on?” No response
“ANSWER ME!” No response.
He slowly inched his way to the chair to grab the piece of paper. With a swift tear, he took the paper from the chair and began to read.

Dear Mr. Roberts,

The punishment for your sins has come. You will no longer be able to go on living a fake life. You must pay for what you did. I will never forget what you did.

Sincerely,

Caretaker

Who is this Caretaker, and what did I do to piss him off? He doesn’t really think I’m going to kill myself. Does he? I don’t even know what he’s talking about. I’m a good person! He’s got the wrong guy, I wouldn’t hurt a fly!

With the light of the phone, Mr. Roberts found the door in the dark room. He turned the door nob, and gave a steady push. The door flew open, but all he could see was the light of his phone. Everything was still black and dark. He started to inch his way through the door. His foot didn’t touch anything on the first step. He reached a little farther. Again, his foot only touched air.

This is strange, what’s going on?

He went back into the room, and shined the light of phone. This time there was a .44 magnum sitting on the bed fully loaded. This time the note was tied to the barrel of the gun. He picked up the gun and carefully took the note and began to read.
Dear Mr. Roberts,

I am doing you a favor. Take the out I have provided for you. It’s time to pay for your sins. I will never forget what you did.

Sincerely,

Caretaker

How the fuck does this guy think he’s doing me a favor? There’s no chance in hell I would ever go through with suicide. He planted a noose, and a gun because of some so called sins. This guy is fucking crazy!

He took the gun, and walked back to the open door and took aim into the darkness.

(Bang!)

He heard nothing but the sound of the gun firing. He took aim again.

(Bang! Bang!)

He heard nothing but the sound of the gun firing. The next thing he did was open the gun and took out a bullet. With the bullet laying in his palm, he dropped it over the sea of darkness. This time he heard nothing.

Mr. Roberts turned around and walked back to the bed inch by inch. He laid back down, and notice a sharp pain coming from his left arm. He lifted the covers of the bed and shined his light and saw a knife dipped in his own blood. Under the knife was an another letter, and quickly opened the note and began to read.

Dear Mr. Roberts,

This is the last time I will offer this. Either take the out I have given you, or accept the punishment of being here for eternity. I will never forget what you did.

Sincerely Caretaker

Fuck you! I don’t need this. It wasn’t my fault, I didn’t see her in the street, she didn’t move. Why, didn’t she move? It was an accident. It wasn’t going to help if I stayed around and went to jail. I called 911, I did the right thing or at least I think. What am i kidding, I did a terrible thing.

Tears in his eyes he threw the knife into the darkness, and fell to his knees clutching the gun in his hands. He checked it to see how many bullets were left. He counted one.

That’s all I need. One shot through my temples and I’m gone. I know I should have stayed and took my punishment like a man. I was scared though, doesn’t that mean anything? I truly am sorry.

He brought the gun up to his head. With his finger trembling on the trigger, he slowly pressed the barrel to his temple.

“Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth, as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.”

(Bang!)

The gun shot a bullet through his brain and killed him instantly. His body fell to his stomach while the blood from his wound began to fill every crease of the floor. With the gun still in hand, He laid there sin free.

title: Inevitable Punishment

question: What is the theme of this story?

answer: Sin.

question: What prayer does the man say before killing himself?

answer: The Lord's Prayer.

question: Who is the person who sends the main character messages?

answer: The Caretaker.

question: What does the Caretaker offer the main character?

answer: The option of suicide.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: This story is about a man who wakes up in a room with the option to kill himself, with notes being left saying that he has sinned. If he does not kill himself he will remain in the room forever. The man kills himself.