text:
It hit us suddenly, and 85 percent of us died in a year. The plague kept ravaging the world, poor, rich, crowded and sparse. We all succumbed, except for a few of us. That last 15 percent.
Over the year following the untreatable and lethal pathogen taking it’s first victim, we buried six people for each one that stayed alive. Not figuratively, but literally. how else were we to smother the stench. But at the end of that year, our mysterious disease claimed it’s last victim, and, as suddenly as we had all seen it start, it stopped.
The consequences that we weren't expecting became the most impactful as it came to a halt. We no longer had the human beings needed to maintain some of our ongoing projects. The first meltdown was in Russia only months before the end of the plague.
Sick, under-qualified, and over-worked emergency employees at a thermonuclear power plant failed to maintain and respond to a critical reactor failure. A cooling pipe had burst, and that had been the beginning. I suppose if there had been a CNN or Fox News at the time, there would have been incredible blame thrown upon the leadership for allowing such dangerous practices, but we all knew what had happened. Maybe not the specifics, but we knew why. Just as much as you do.
It kept happening, and nobody had expected or planned for this, reactors kept melting down. Whole portions of the world were drenched in severe fallout, cities abandoned. By the time we realized that our governments had crumbled completely, it was over. Highways became death traps as desperate people, unable to feed themselves without the structure and labor once provided by the six and a half billion people in the world. Then came the real explosions.
The first bomb went off in what had once been salt lake city. It leveled the damn place. It turns out that, even after the world is over, it’s still important to know where the nukes are at. We only ever managed to collect half of the nukes from before the plague. The rest are either lost, dismantled, or used.
When we finally managed to pick up the pieces and try to reassemble the world, where I lived had been claimed by “The United Republic of Eastern States”. The rest of what had once been north america had been divided up between the Theocratic Nation of the End Times in middle america and the south, and the Social Democracy of the West.
Suddenly humans were incredibly valuable again. With less than a billion people on the planet, labor became incredibly important. The planet thrived, we could support every human being with no famine. Natural resources weren't spread so thin, and climate change scientists, those that were left at least, admitted that the plague might have saved humanity. It took a year for us to realize what it had really done.
A year to date after the last victim of the plague was claimed, I was working for the medical ministry of the Eastern States. The statistics came in, and my first reaction was to deny it. Zero births since the plague ended. We were baffled, and scared. Several calls to scientists around the world quickly confirmed our worst fears. Humanity had been sterilized.
It was the first time in history that the whole human race gathered together under one flag. The planet was once nation, with all it’s resources directed at preserving humanity and it’s children. Every scientist was directed to the sciences of longevity, cloning, or reproduction. Desperate cries for help to the stars were broadcast, looking for some celestial savior. War all but stopped, as we refused to risk the end of humanity.
At the two year mark from the end of the Plague, the first child was born from my lab. A girl, made from my genetic material, and that of one of my colleagues. We were overnight celebrities. The world applauded us as their saviours. Some people applauded the small child as the future mother of all humanity. That was only until we found out that she too was infertile. Her body had not been created with the capacity. Suddenly, it was just me and my lab.
Then it wasn’t. We couldn’t replicate our results. Nobody accused us of falsifying our original results, we had a one year old child to prove our initial success. It just would not happen again. We struggled for two more years, hoping to replicate those promising results that we called Mary. Sadness.
News broke. A leading computer expert and neurologist from what-had-once-been Beijing had transferred the brain patterns of a terminally ill patient from his mind into a specially made machine. It was claimed that his conscience survived. There were questions, as it was hard to prove that it was still a human conscience that survived within his machine.
The questions only persisted until he transferred his own mind into a metal body for a week, leaving his body comatose. He transferred his mind back into his body, retaining memory and conscience of his time in the machine. His name, Xian-wing, became the most uttered name in post-plague society.
The waiting list for his ‘treatment’ was so long that I didn’t even bother signing up. I would be dead by the time it was my turn. Instead, I focused on my work. It took me another two years, but I finally had four more healthy fetuses in my cyber-wombs, and to me, two boys and two girls were born. I was able to replicate it again, and again. I found our solution.
I had a lot of time to think about this. The Great Filter: The theory that sentient life has some great challenge that prevents most species from leaving their own planet before it destroys itself, or is destroyed by poor luck. The idea that sterility was our great filter had been tossed around since the Plague. I had a different opinion. But I kept it to myself.
I had brought forth two hundred new humans, and Xian-wing had been placing hundreds into their mechanical minds. Humanity seemed to be rebounding. Our greatest minds could control the rate of population creation. Data storage was the only limitation of human population, as those embedded in machined began to live their lives halfway between the virtual reality, in which only they could live, and reality. We were no longer struggling for resources, science was progressing rapidly since all of our resources had been diverted to our technology. We looked to the stars and, for the first time, they looked back.
They landed in what had once been the Arabian Peninsula. A giant object of unknown origin that broadcast a simple signal. They welcomed us to the stars, in our own languages. The message played on repeat for a week before the vessel disappeared to the stars once more. Suddenly there was urgency to reach the stars. We stepped out, jumped into orbit.
They had been waiting for us. They welcomed us in person this time, as they brought our small shuttle aboard their hulking space-craft. From what I understand, they had been watching for a long time. We eventually thought to ask about the Great Filter, and my suspicions were confirmed.
Our Great Filter had not been our Sterility, but our Sterility had been the way we slipped the sieve. We had been far too effective at procreating, destroying our planet through the thoughtless creation of millions of new humans when we couldn't feed the ones that we already had. This inane multiplication had been like the parasite that grows until it kills the host, and itself in the process.
Now that was under control, and we were through the filter. We had earned our place in the stars, and been welcomed into it. We had even learned the secrets of immortality through technology. All thanks to one very special virus.
“The Plague”

title: [SF] After the Plague

question: Summarize the story's twist ending.

answer: During the plague, people toss around the idea that the sterility of the human race is their great filter. After speaking with the alien race, the narrator learns the opposite is true: the sterility was actually what allowed humanity to survive the great filter of overpopulation. In addition, the plague helped them gain the secrets to immortality through technology.

question: Summarize everything relating to futuristic technology.

answer: After the plague, all scientists were directed to the sciences of longevity, cloning, and reproduction. Two years after the end of the plague, a child was born in the narrator's lab. Soon after, a leading computer expert and neurologist managed to transfer the brain patters of a terminally ill patient into a machine, then into a metal body, then back into his original body. With all of humanity's resources diverted to technology, science progressed rapidly. Finally, aliens arrive on a hulking space-craft.

question: What does the story say about the bubonic plague?

question: Summarize the negative events that occur as a result of the plague.

answer: 85 percent of humanity dies out in a year. Six people were buried for each one that stayed alive. A meltdown occurred in Russia at a thermonuclear power plant. Other reactors melted down, drenching portions of the world in fallout. The governments crumbled. Then nuclear bombs starting going off. As a result of the plague, humanity becomes sterilized.


split: train

text:
I know I had come across true love once, and I know it because the feeling still burns in my bones. I met him at the age of 4, his name was Elijah. Never in a million years would I have thought that I would see him fade into colorless dust, brushing away to coat the earth and never be found, leaving his family like a shipwreck in a never-ending tide. Elijah, oh how much I could have done for you, how much I could have done to save you. But in my seven year old shoes, I stood paralyzed as menacing arms gripped mine, with a scolding voice that replayed over and over in my head. One day, we were going to stare deep into each-others eyes, telling ourselves it was where we wanted to be for the rest of our lives. We were going to run in our adult shoes, playing tag, until our legs didn't work anymore. That was our true fate, not this. Nothing would have burnt us to the ground. But now I live with a demon always sitting on my shoulder. He likes to laugh at me for what I've done, reminding me of the horrors over again, just as soon as I try to move on. He binds me with chains of silence, he binds me with a closed mind. He draws the man who burnt my clothes, the man who burnt your life. Elijah, I could have saved you.
Elijah... One day, I hope you will forgive me.

But do you remember our last day together, Elijah? The one where we walked home from school through fields of gold, spinning the earth beneath our feet? Do you remember the sun and how it melted the clouds beneath it, revealing the freckles on our faces? Our hands intertwined unconsciously, as our tiny hearts beat like racing drums. We ran until our laughter knocked us down, and stayed until the sky was coated with marmalade. If only we could have frozen the moment and never moved on. If only we could have both stayed in our seven year old bodies. If only I had never been given the opportunity to grow up alone.

I wish our hands stayed intertwined the whole way through. I wish we closed our eyes, and imagined the sun was melting us into the fields of gold. I wish my little legs didn't learn to escape. I wish it was me instead of you, so that you could have run home to your family, letting them know everything was okay.
And in this moment, I wish the fires that covered you could dry my tears.

title: [Elijah...]

question: What is the narrator's relationship to Elijah?

answer: They seem to have been friends from a young age.

question: What happened to Elijah?

answer: Given the shipwrecked metaphor, I assume he died.

question: How many years were the two friends?

answer: Three years.

question: How does it seem Elijah died?

answer: Possibly in an actual fire, though this is not terribly clear-that could be a metaphor.


text:
The boy is trapped by nightmares and darkness. He can't escape.
At sunset, he climbs into his bed and dreams of lies, pain and death...
The putrid stench of dying, rotting flesh. Why? Why is life so pitiful? The ground is littered with death. The skies weep, tossing down puddles of endless misery. The red lake grows larger.
I toss and turn, but I stay still, possessed by a living nightmare. Beads of sweat accumulate on my forehead. I'm drowning. The water... It never stops. Make it stop. Stop!
Quiet. In the distance. Are those people? ...Demons. Run.
I'm one of them. How could this be? How could this happen?
The screams, the blood, the terror, pulsing through the veins of a thousand sleeping warriors all armored and ready for war. They watch, frozen like statues as clouds of dark mist cascade on their helpless bodies.
A lake of blood.
Did it end? Is it over? The covers. They strangle me. I'm choking. Get it off! Stop it! Get away!
The dark mist. It won't leave.
I fly over the blood stained hills, the water reflecting the gruesome battle. I'm flying? What am I? What have I become?
Listen. The sounds of wounded men. Somebody help them! But there's no time to waste.
The door opens. A cloaked figure silently glides to the bedside of a troubled boy and whispers in the dead of night.
No audible words.
The ritual begins.
No... The end is near. The ritual... is already over.
What happened?
The boy awakens. He sees a man in a robe on his bedside. The man is talking.
The boy asks the man, "What happened? I'm scared."
"Well, son, Satan tried to scare my little warrior tonight, but he won't win."
"How do you know that?" The boy had no comprehension of Satan, but he was troubled by the name regardless.
"Because I happen to be your father. I'm here to protect you, son."
The boy, comforted by the robed man, slowly glided back underneath the covers as the robed man tucked him in.
The boy, once asleep, dreamt about a wonderful place. Beautiful, winged creatures soared effortlessly through silky skies, emitting light on their journeys. Magnificent buildings flooded the golden streets, and joyous praises could be heard throughout.
The boy, guided by instinct, found and opened the door to his house.
The robed man, waiting for him through the door, took the boy's hand and guided him through marble stairways, high arches, and intricately detailed furnished rooms.
The boy, curious by the unworldly beauty of the place, outstretched his hands and delicately glided his small fingers across the walls in awe of the mysterious texture.
When the boy had satisfied his curiosity, the robed man took the boy's hand once again and led him outside.
They walked through the streets, observing the peculiar yet beautiful creatures that endlessly fluttered around the robed man.
As they approached closer to one of the creatures, the boy could hear an angelic voice resonating loudly from its mouth.
The creature spoke of a wonderful king who conquered death and defeated sin, but the boy had never heard those words before. He had no ability to comprehend the story that was being told, but he enjoyed listening to the voice nonetheless.
His eyes teared up, and his vision blurred. He wasn't scared, however. His mind rattled with love, hope, peace, and joy, emotions he had never experienced before.
The emotions, beautiful creatures, the golden streets and the perfect climate. Paradise. How could one long for anything else?
The boy peacefully awoke at sunrise. He hopped enthusiastically to the window and opened the blinds. His eyes caught the first glimpse of the sunrise in the distance, and he felt happy.
His hands touched the cold window, and he made a shape of a cross with his finger out of the condensation on the glass. It was a symbol he had never seen before, yet he felt so attached to it.
He felt like he was dreaming...
But he had escaped.

title: Escaping the Dream - Constructive criticism is appreciated!

question: What is the boy dreaming of at the beginning of the story?

answer: Presumably the boy is dreaming of Christian Hell at the beginning.

question: What is the boy dreaming of the second time he goes to sleep?

answer: Presumably the boy is dreaming of Christian Heaven the second time he goes to sleep.

question: What religion is the boy being exposed to?

answer: The boy is presumably being exposed to Christianity.

question: Who was the man in the robe?

answer: The man in the robe is maybe an angel or Christian God.


text:
Have you wondered about what self-esteem is and how to get more of it? Do you think your self-esteem is low? Do you know how to tell? Do you know what to do about it?

Self-esteem answers the question, “How do I feel about who I am?” We learn self-esteem in our family of origin; we do not inherit it.

Global self-esteem (about “who we are”) is normally constant. Situational self-esteem (about what we do) fluctuates, depending on circumstances, roles, and events. Situational self-esteem can be high at one moment (e.g., at work) and low the next (e.g., at home).

Low self-esteem is a negative evaluation of oneself. This type of evaluation usually occurs when some circumstance we encounter in our life touches on our sensitivities. We personalize the incident and experience physical, emotional, and cognitive arousal. This is so alarming and confusing that we respond by acting in a self-defeating or self-destructive manner. When that happens, our actions tend to be automatic and impulse-driven; we feel upset or emotionally blocked; our thinking narrows; our self-care deteriorates; we lose our sense of self; we focus on being in control and become self-absorbed.

Global self-esteem is not set in stone. Raising it is possible, but not easy. Global self-esteem grows as we face our fears and learn from our experiences. Some of this work may require the aid of a psychotherapist. In the meantime, here is what you can do:

-   GET SOBER. Get help through 12-step groups to stop self-destructive behaviors. Addictions block learning and drag down our mood. Identify them and replace them with self-care.
-   PRACTICE SELF-CARE. Make new lifestyle choices by joining self-help groups and practicing positive health care.
-   IDENTIFY TRIGGERS TO LOW SELF-ESTEEM. We personalize stressful events (e.g., criticism) by inferring a negative meaning about ourselves. A self-defeating action often follows. Each event can, instead, be a chance to learn about ourselves, if we face our fear of doing so and the negative beliefs about ourselves that sustain the negative meanings.
-   SLOW DOWN PERSONALIZING. Target personalizing to slow impulsive responses. You can begin to interfere with these automatic overreactions by using relaxation and stress management techniques. These techniques are directed at self-soothing the arousal. This allows us to interrupt the otherwise inevitable automatic reaction and put into play a way to begin to face the unacknowledged fears at the root of low self-esteem.
-   STOP AND TAKE NOTICE. Pay attention to the familiarity of the impulse. Our tendency is to overreact in the same way to the same incident. Awareness of the similarity can be the cue to slow our reactivity.
-   ACKNOWLEDGE REACTION. Verbalize, “Here I go again (describe action, feeling, thought) . . . ” Actively do something with the awareness rather than passively note it. The result is to slow the impulse and give ourselves a choice about how we want to respond.
-   CHOOSE RESPONSE. Hold self-defeating impulses. Act in a self-caring and effective way. By choosing to act in a more functional way, we take a step toward facing our fears.
-   ACCEPT IMPULSE. Be able to state the benefit (e.g., protection) of overreaction. We won’t be able to do this at first, but as we become more effective, we will begin to appreciate what our self-defeating impulse had been doing for us.
-   DEVELOP SKILLS. We can provide for our own safety, engender hope, tolerate confusion, and raise self-esteem by learning and using these essential life skills:

    -   EXPERIENCE FEELINGS. “Feel” feelings in your body and identify your needs. When we do not respect our feelings, we are left to rely on what others want and believe.
    -   OPTIONAL THINKING. End either/or thinking. Think in “shades of gray” and learn to reframe meanings. By giving ourselves options, we open ourselves to new possibilities about how to think about our dilemmas.
    -   DETACHMENT. End all abuse; say “no” to misrepresentations and assumptions. By maintaining personal boundaries, we discourage abuse by others and assert our separateness.
    -   ASSERTION. Voice what you see, feel, and want by making “I” statements. By expressing our thoughts, feelings, and desires in a direct and honest manner, we show that we are in charge of our lives.
    -   RECEPTIVITY. End self-absorption; listen to others’ words and meanings to restate them. In this way, we act with awareness of our contribution to events as well as empathize with the needs of others.

    _This article was adapted from GROWING OURSELVES UP: A GUIDE TO RECOVERY AND SELF-ESTEEM, with permission of the author, Stanley J. Gross, Ed.D._

APA REFERENCE
Gross, S. (2020). How To Raise Your Self-Esteem. _Psych Central_. Retrieved on November 30, 2020, from https://psychcentral.com/lib/how-to-raise-your-self-esteem/

question: What are the two types of self-esteem outlined by the author?

answer: Global and situational.

question: What is global self-esteem?

answer: It is not set in stone-it is about who we are relative to our experiences, and subsequently, how we change to become better.

question: What is low self-esteem?

answer: A negative evaluation of one's self.

question: What can we do to help low self-esteem?

answer: We can identify patterns and triggers, and see a psychotherapist.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: According to the author, there are two types of self-esteem: global and situational. The former is not set in stone, and we can control it to some extent to help combat low self-esteem. Low self-esteem is a negative evaluation of one's self. While successful treatment often must include the assistance of a therapist, there are many ways we can identify our own triggers and patterns to help boost our self-esteem.


text:
It occurred to me while listening to the radio the other how animalistic popular music has become. I mean animalistic as in; how close we have come to our primal root.

At some point in human evolution, we shifted from ignorance of ourselves as a species to an obsession with our own superiority. Two legs and a complex brain, and now we are something quite different. This is widely accepted as fact, that we are better because we are smarter. We are human.

However, the truth is that we still are animals at some level. Our hearts are made one part good, one part evil, one part human. Mixed in among the blend  is an animalistic element, and it is the single most terrifying truth of our existence.

We have spent thousands of years building gaps between ourselves and our animal heart. We organize ourselves in ways animals don’t and retain self-image in ways animals wouldn’t think to. We pleasure seek, explore, invent and create, converse and enjoy each other’s company in ways animals can’t. We would like to forget our embarrassing past among the tall grass, sucking on bone marrow to survive, hunched against the cold in our dingy, primeval cave.

But as I drove down the highway, the highway that civilization spawned, that technology brought forth from unevenness, smoothed by progression and innovation, and as I listened to the radio that man invented, that harnesses and controls some part of the natural spectrum of existence, the same existence that man claims superiority too, I heard the pound of the bass, the beat of the song. The beat of our animal heart, breaking through an art form. It was loud, meant to be heard but more importantly meant to be felt. It was sex, wild, unrestricted, unmodified, thoughtless. It was adrenaline, murder, blood-thirst, terror, the possibility of hunting and being hunted.

All that matters anymore is the beat. It is instinctual. It is the easiest part of ourselves to facilitate. Being human is more complex and carries with it melodies and verses filled with societal responsibilities, a conscious awareness of self and shamefulness, and need for intellectual stimulus. We do not understand it, we cannot control it, and most often we repress it in pursuit of animalistic ambition. It is societies’ greatest irony that our animalism, our animal heart, is our most grievous embarrassment as well as our most facilitated being.

title: Animalism

question: What song specifically triggered these thoughts in the narrator?

answer: Information not found.

question: Where was the narrator listening to the radio?

answer: In his car.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator is driving on the highway and is thinking about human nature and how at the heart of it lies our animal hearts.


text:
   Rain was falling hard against his bare back. It was dark and the disfigured shapes of naked trees danced around him. Their branches brought to life by the wind seemed to reach for him with gruesomely long and slender fingers. The rain collecting in puddles and streaming along the fallen branches, rocks and tentacle-like roots made them look like crawling creatures from the underworld that were always hiding under the cover of darkness. There were no stars and the moon was blocked by thick clouds that were pouring over the sky like a river of melting tar. The only light present was the one glistening in his blue eyes. It was truely an unsettling and spooky place to be this time of night, but he couldn’t enjoy anything more than going hunting in a night like this.
   Steam rose from his wet skin as he was standing in the mucky water and listening for a prey. The constant shower of rain filled the air with a damp smell of mud and the sound of whispers from far away. Then he heard it. Something was out there… and it was his to play with. He closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath opening his claw-like hands eager to drive them through his victim.
   He crouched and leaned forward targeting the prey. He didn’t have that much problem seeing at night so he knew exactly where to go. He moved swiftly and without a sound like a shadow blending with the darkness. As he was getting closer he jumped over a large tree that had fallen long time ago and landed on his hands making a silent roll in the wet mud. Soon after he rose, the rain had already washed away the dirt and he continued the chase. Finally he was close enough to hear a heartbeat. It was raging fast as the owner of it fled through the woods, jumping over fallen trees, running around bushes and occasionally tripping over various objects including her own feet.
   He paused to take a better look at what he was chasing and as he did his eyes brightened. If anybody had been looking his way, they would have seen a pair of dark blue eyes burning in the night and nothing more.
   Once he knew what he was up against he chose to sneak past the girl and attack from the front – face on. No grabbing by the leg or any other cowardly moves. It shouldn’t be too difficult, he thought. After all, he was much faster, didn’t make a lot of noise and had a great night vision. The hunt was on.
   He picked up his pace maneuvering through the woods, sometimes jumping so high over things it seemed as gravity had no effect on him. The sound of rainfall overcame the sound of his steps and he started to enclose on the girl. She was now on his left, so close he could smell the adrenaline rushing through her veins and the smell was sweet. He couldn’t help but to look at her as they were running just a few pitch black feet aside from each other. And then she threw a look at him. Two bright blue eyes were glaring at her from the darkness so close she could have touched them. She turned away and lost all sense of reality while screaming until out of breath.
   He should have closed his eyes before the girl saw them, but he didn’t and it made him regret he had moved so close to her before time. Now she had turned away from him and ran even faster. Still, this was no problem for an experienced hunter like himself. He leaped forward and smashed his claw in a tree to make a quick turn. He jumped up and swung from one tree to another with such power the bark fell to the ground like burned ash. He made his way over the girl and jumped forward extending his arms like a prowling hawk. He landed and rolled in a ball of black mist in front of her. Once he stopped he was facing her and leaped forward before she even came to what was happening.
   He flew past her so close he wiped off some rain drops from her cheek. As he went by he started to rotate and behind him formed a black cloud that covered his feet. And finally he had the chance to rip his pray to pieces. His claws grew longer right before they slashed the demonic flesh of the slithering beast that had been tormenting the girl and chasing her through the forest. The beast was stunned, wounded and obviously angry. It let out a horrific howl that turned into chilling screams of every soul it had eaten and made a screeching sound by chomping and grinding its sharp teeth together.
   The girl was frozen with fear but she wanted to run. It was a fearsome feeling but she was amazed by the two creatures. The dark creature with flaming blue eyes floating around followed by a cloud of darkness blocking her from the growling beast whose breath turned into white smoke.
   The beast roared once more sending chills down her spine and attacked the dark creature trying to pulverize him with its horns. As soon as they got close, the blue-eyed creature span into a spiral around the demon creating a dark blue tornado lifting it up. He drilled his claw right through the demons chest and drove him to the ground. As he did, the dark spiral ended and blue light shone from his eyes and the hand penetrating the demon. Blue-eyed creature lifted his other hand to the sky and it too shone blue. Then suddenly waves of white lights traveled through his hands and went shooting for the sky. When the last soul had left the demons flesh Blue-eyed levitated above him and raised his hands that were radiating with blue light and then slammed them into the demon once more pushing him into the ground and out of this world. Then the light faded.
   Blue-eyed turned to the girl and smiled. That was the creepiest smile she had ever seen for it was given by a skeleton rabbit with long slender ears and burning blue eyes. But she smiled back and the creature disappeared in the dark.

title: Nothing to fear in the dark.

question: Why did the blue eyed creature save the girl?

answer: Unclear.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: A demon is chasing down a girl. She runs as fast as she can when she sees him approaching. Finally the demon catches up to her and just as he is preparing to kill her a blue eyes skeleton rabbit comes to the rescue. The girl is mesmerized as she watches the demon and rabbit fight. Thankfully the rabbit wins and the girl is saved.


text:
**The Pro.**

You swing your car into the dingy lot in front of Gutter Ball's and kill the engine. You sit there for a few moments preparing yourself. Almost game time.

You hit the trunk release and get out of the car. The rain stopped about an hour ago and for the first time this week the evening air is cool rather than muggy. Opening the trunk, you retrieve you bag and head toward the entrance, passing Ten Pin's truck on the way.

Gutter Ball's is the kind of place where men take the game of bowling very seriously. Despite it's dim, dingy interior, the lanes are well-kept and gleam with fresh oil. It's like stepping directly into a hurricane sometimes, the balls roaring down the lanes sound like approaching thunder and you can feel the punctuating booms in your chest as they strike the pins.

Classic rock plays nonstop at Gutter Ball's. At the moment Don Henley is lamenting about a certain hotel he never should have stayed in. Gutter Ball is behind the counter chatting up a leggy brunette with an amazing case of acne. Gutter is no prize himself, though at well over 6' 4" his sheer mass seems to cause some women's panties to loosen and from what you can glean from the conversation, it seems to be working for him at the moment.

The place is packed tonight, you knew it would be. Everywhere people are gathered in small groups either at the bar or down in the alley. The chatter is so loud you can barely hear the music. You like it that way though, the chaos helps you concentrate. You can see a much larger crowd than the rest gathered at the far end of the alley, obviously occupying both of the last two lanes. That must be Ten Pin's crowd of admirers. Looking closer, you see him stand up and get into form. He takes a deep breath, moves forward 3 paces and throws a clean strike.

*Good,* you think, *I hope he's already warmed up.*

As you approach the counter Gutter glances at you in annoyance only briefly before resuming his conversation with the brunette.

"I swear. Just by *hearin*,'" he tells her.

"Ain't no way," she says.

Gutter holds up one finger. "Wait for it," he says.

Frustrated, you glance toward Ten Pin's groupies once more and see him going through his motions again. His release is silky smooth, the ball screams down the lane. Gutter stabs his finger in the brunette's direction.

"*That* one's a strike," he says. The brunette whips around to follow the sound. A half-second later Ten Pin's ball slams into the pocket with a crash- not a pin stands. The brunette jumps up and down and giggles with glee.

"AMAZING!" she exclaims. "Do it again! *Please?*" she whines.

"In a sec', sweetheart," he says, finally turning in your direction.

"I don't know you," he says, frowning. "The fuck do you want?"
"I'd like a lane." you tell him. "Down alley next to Ten Pin if you've got one."

Gutter's gaze loosens a bit and he raises an eyebrow at you."Ten Pin, huh?" he eyes you up and down, frowning a little once more. "You for real?" he asks.

You lean over the counter and regard Gutter closely, trying to appear intense.

"You just pay attention," you tell him. "Keep your ears peeled." you smile at Gutter and wink. For a moment he only stares at you and then he cracks a huge grin and slaps you on the shoulder.

"I like you, kid!" he exclaims loudly. Gutter gestures toward the brunette. She smiles at you politely, obviously uninterested. "This here's Sally," he says. She nods in your direction. "What's you name, son?" he asks.

"English," you tell him. "You can call me English."

"English, huh?" Gutter says, his frown returning. Gutter glances at Sally and she giggles once again.

"Well, you go ahead and see to your lane," he says, "*Mr.* English." Sally can't help but laugh loudly this time.

"Thank you," you tell him. Part of you really wanted to like Gutter but another part of you wanted to shove his stone face into the counter-top.

You take your score sheet and head down toward the end of the alley.

title: The Pro.(short fiction)

question: What is Gutter Ball?

answer: Gutter Ball is a bowling alley in which people take the game of bowling very seriously.

question: Who is Ten Pin?

answer: Ten Pin seems to be the hotshot in the bowling alley, and has a crowd of admirers around him.

question: Why does the narrator want a lane next to Ten Pin?

answer: Not answered

question: Who is English?

answer: English is the nickname that the narrator gives themselves.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator arrives at Gutter Ball. The place is packed, and they notice that Ten Pin has amassed a large crowd on his lane. The narrator approaches Gutter, the man behind the counter, and asks for a lane right by Ten Pin. Gutter agrees, and the narrator approaches the lane.


text:
Footsteps echo in the long stone corridor. Small chains can also be heard. The man is panting, running towards a wooden door with golden engravings. He rams in the door, forgetting about the doorknob. The door hits the Jester, who then falls to the ground and breaks his nose. In the middle of the room, is the leader. Without wasting an instant, he yells

“Sire! We are under attack!” Yells the Subreddit knight.
“What?” Screams the leader, standing up
“Yes sire! Castle Repost is breaching our walls! It won't be long now!”
“What are they after?”
“The same thing as always, they wish to break Castle AdviceAnimal's walls and reach the Front Page fortress!”
“This shouldn't be a problem, our Downvote cannons are always charged! Tell me what happened!”
“They managed to outnumber us. They silently shot down our defenses with their Upvote Cannons. From that point, they burned the front gate and slowly walked in.”
“Where are they now?” Asks the Leader
“We managed to arm our comment guns and slow them down, but soon they will overpower us.” The knight explained
“Did you try calling on an ally Castle? Like Castle Funny or Castle Aww?”
“We did, but they said they could not arrive for a few days. We sent messages to Castle Atheist and Circle-Jerk, we have no response yet, but I'm sure they will refuse.”
“What about the citizens?”

A cannon shot is heard, then a smashing sound. Screams flood the air, followed by another explosion and screams of glory.

“We tried to make them leave by the secret tunnels, but many citizens took to arms and jumped into the fight. Many died and are still dying. The ones that decided to escape found that most of the tunnels were blocked. We lost many.” Explains the Knight, a hint of sadness in his voice.
“How many men do we have left?”
“When I left, a few were still standing. A few of our men have been captured and enslaved. The Fortress was still untouched, but, as we heard, that has changed.”
“Then follow me, we shall gather what few we have and craft some plan that might turn the table.” Commands the King.

The King opens the door. A few cats run away from the room. The Jester stands up and runs to the corridor, where a cannonball smashes through and hits him. The Knight goes first, but turns left. The King follows him. They walk through the stone corridors and passageways, on their way seeing the Castle Nobles running awry. The Scumbag Brain is hitting a door, trying to get in, while the Scumbag Steve and Stacy are pushing people aside, running in circles. As the Knight and King finally arrive to the armory, they realize that it's completely empty.

“Where are they all?” Asks the King
“At the walls, fighting off the enemy. We were lucky not to encounter them.”
More screams are heard, this time closer to them. Again, the same victory cries are heard.

“We don't have any time left. The enemy is here, searching for me. We have to act now.”
“All the weapons we have left are here. A few pounds of black powder, some swords and dagger and two shields.” Counts the Knight, as he locks the door.

The King walks and sits in a corner. As he does this, the door blasts open in a cloud of fire, smoke and blood. The King screams as portions of his newest friend splatters his robes. As the smoke dies down, an orange arrow smashes into the wall next to his head.

“So, you managed to outlive all of your little guards? No matter, you will join them soon enough.” A voice chuckles.
“So you are the new general that managed to recruit all of these newbies? You are new yourself, but competent.” Tells the King.
“Why thank you, but don't think complements will save you. I am here on a mission.” Exclaims the General
“You are competent, but still inexperienced. Exactly like your army.”  Explains the King
“And why is that?” Asks the General
“Because you didn't think this through. The worst place to be when you attack a Fortress, especially when you confront someone, is the armory.” Slowly says the King
“Explain.” Demands the General
“Let me show you.” The King says

The General and his army intensely stares at the King, while he reaches into his back pocket with his left hand. He slowly pulls out a gun.

“Downvote gun, one of the most powerful ever built” Says the King.
“Don't even think about shooting me or yourself.” Confidently says the General.

The King lets out a little laugh. He slowly points the muzzle to his left. The entire audience looks left, over to a pile of swords and daggers. As fast as he can, the King takes a shield and shoots to his right, on a pile of black powder. As the audience looks right, they see a large flash of light, then another ball of fire, smoke and blood fill the room. Screams are heard, but no victory cries are heard this time. When the smoke falls, the King uncurls from behind the shield and stands up.

“Time to rebuild, again... Will these attacks ever end?” He sighs

As he walks out of the room, he looks at all the damage done to the Fortress and the Kingdom. A cat walks to him and starts cuddling.

- “I really need a bath.” He whispers.

title: The attack of the Repost

question: Summarize what the story is a metaphor for.

answer: In the story, different castles are metaphors for different Subreddits on the website Reddit. The weapons are upvotes and downvotes, which are used on the website to express approval or disapproval in posts. However, the attacking castle doesn't represent a particular Subreddit, but the concept of reposting, posting something in a subreddit which has already been posted. Though not as explicit, the knights and king are presumably metaphors for Subreddit moderators.


text:
This is an easy and quick to build in survival mode mob grinder and xp farm. All you need to do is find a dungeon (zombie or skeleton, doesn't matter) and make the water elevator as shown in the screenshots. By natural instinct the mobs will jump up in water, traveling upwards in the elevator. Once at the top, the water flow pushes them down a tunnel and into a shaft. They fall down the shaft (around 25 blocks) and lose most of there health. They gather up in the 1x1 area and you can kill them off with 1 punch (sometimes 2) and get their xp and items. You can alter the effect by lowering or raising the shaft so they die on impact or have less or more health remaining, depending on if you want just mob drops or quick xp. This is a quick way to get lots of xp and items such as bones, arrows, and even enchanted bows (check the second to last screenshot, 1 skeleton has an enchanted bow on him)

Enjoy!

question: What game is this referring to?

answer: Minecraft


text:
ZHU WEN (; born 1967) is a Chinese short story writer turned director.

Early life and writing

Zhu Wen was born in 1967 in Quanzhou City, Fujian Province. He attended Southeast University in Nanjing, and graduated with a degree in electric power. After working as an engineer in a state-owned thermal power plant for five years, he quit his job in 1994 to become a freelance writer. His first published short story, _I Love Dollars_, was denounced by some critics as the “shameless and indecent novel of a hooligan.”[1]

In 1998, he instigated and became identified with the _Rupture_ (_duanlie_) movement to voice dissatisfaction with the literary establishment. He sent questionnaires to about 70 writers, about 55 of which responded. The responses were sarcastic and mostly expressed discontent, and later spawned publications that nurtured more independence among writers.[2]

In an introduction to Zhu Wen's short stories, translator Julia Lovell characterized his 'trademark narrative style' as “a loosely punctuated, first-person voice in which speech, both direct and indirect, run on within sentences of descriptive prose, designed to capture the unceremonious, free-flowing rhythms of action and dialogue in contemporary China.”[3] As a writer, he was labelled as part of a 'newly-born generation' (_xinshengdai_) movement.

He began writing short stories and novellas in 1991. He has written the following novellas:

-   _I Love Dollars_《我爱美元》(1994)
-   _A Boat Crossing_《三生修得同舟渡》 (1995)
-   _A Hospital Night_ 《幸亏这些年有了一点钱》 (1996)
-   _Wheels_ 《把穷人统统打昏》 (1998)
-   _Ah, Xiao Xie_《小谢啊小谢》(1999)
-   《因为孤独》
-   《弟弟的演奏》
-   《人民到底需不需要桑拿》
-   《大汗淋漓》

His only novel-length work is _What is Garbage, What is Love_. (什么是拉圾，什么是爱).

A selection of his short stories were translated by Julia Lovell and published by Columbia University Press in January 2007. [4]

Directorial career

Zhu decided to direct a movie in 2000. He has said that most of the directors he admires come from Continental Europe and Russia, including Andrei Tarkovsky.[5]

He is considered a member of the Sixth Generation of Chinese film makers. His first movie was _Seafood_ (海鲜), about a policeman and prostitute's friendship in Beidaihe. It won the Grand Jury Prize at the 58th Venice Film Festival. It cost about 300,000RMB to produce.[6]

His second film, _South of the Clouds_ (云的南方), was awarded the NETPAC (Network for Promotion of Asian Films) Prize at the Berlin Film Festival and won 'Asia's Best New Director Prize' at the Shanghai International Film Festival, sharing the prize and half of the 150,000RMB prize with a Thai director.[7] He explained the title referred to desires that cannot be fulfilled. [8] It cost about 100,000RMB to produce.[9]

Zhu has also been highly critical of some of the Fifth Generation of Chinese directors, saying of Zhang Yimou and Chen Kaige, “They're successful directors, but they're not good directors.”[10]

Filmography

-   DIRECTOR

  Year   English Title           Chinese Title   Notes
  ------ ----------------------- --------------- -------
  2001   _Seafood_               海鲜
  2004   _South of the Clouds_   云的南方

-   SCREENWRITER

  Year   English Title               Chinese Title   Director
  ------ --------------------------- --------------- ------------
  1996   _Rain Clouds over Wushan_   巫山云雨        Zhang Ming
  1999   _Seventeen Years_           过年回家        Zhang Yuan
  2001   _Seafood_                   海鲜            Zhu Wen

Notes

[1] : “《我爱美元》一度被评论界恶劣地斥为“厚颜无耻的流氓小说”.

[2]

[3]  pg. xiv

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

title: Zhu Wen (writer)

question: Summarize everything relating to the reception of Zhu Wen's work.

answer: His first published short story, I Love Dollars, was denounced by some critics as the "shameless and indecent novel of a hooligan". His first movie, Seafood, won the Grand Jury Prize at the 58th Venice Film Festival. His second film, South of the Clouds, was awarded the NETPAC Prize and the Berling Film Festival and won Asia's Best New Director Prize at the Shanghai International Film Festival.

question: Summarize everything relating to Zhu Wen's opinion of other artists.

answer: He became identified with the Rupture movement in 1998, voicing dissatisfaction with the literary establishment. He has also been highly critical of some of the Fifth Generation of Chinese directors, saying they're successful but not good directors.

question: What does the article say about Zhu Wen's influences?

question: What does the article say about Zhu Wen's career outside of short story and novel writing?

answer: He worked as an engineer in a state-owned thermal power plant for five years but quit in 1994 to become a freelance writer. He also directed a movie in 2000. As a director, he is considered part of the Sixth Generation of Chinese film makers.


text:
_TUAKANA_ is a genus of South Pacific intertidal spiders that was first described by Raymond Robert Forster in 1970.[1] it contains only two species, both found in New Zealand: _T. mirada_ and _T. wiltoni_.[2]

[1]

[2]

title: Tuakana

question: What is Tuakana?

answer: It is a genus of South Pacific intertidal spiders.

question: Where are they found?

answer: They are found in New Zealand.

question: Who described the genus first?

answer: Raymond Robert Forster.

question: How many species are there in the genus?

answer: Two species.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer:
Taukana is a genus of South Pacific intertidal spiders. The genus contains two species, both are found in New Zealand.

Taukana was first described by Raymond Forster in 1970.


text:
                                          Me

	Before we get into the depths of this story, I assume you are going to want to know about me. Who am I? Where did I come from? All that basic shit. And the truth is, who I am isn’t all the different from who the girl next door to you is. My situations have made me unique and the fact that I observe has made me different.

	At this point in time, I am 19 years old. I am slightly overweight, but you wouldn’t notice from looking at me. I have hips that one day will make giving birth easy but for now just make black guys go dammmmmnnnn girrllll. I have shoulder length hair that is some weird boxed shade of red that I dyed it out of anger. The cut was out of anger too. I’m 5’3.5 and yes that half an inch does matter. I wear a dress almost every day, not because I’m particularly girly anymore, but because it’s really all I have from my last relationship which was particularly controlling. I have two tattoos. One of an owl rests on my left ankle and the kittens from the aristocats parade around my right ribcage. Appearances make a person. This is why I am going so in depth so you can know me. My eyes, well they aren’t important. I want you too see my situations through your eyes. So take your eyes, put them on me, and there we go.

	As someone told me, my personality is weird. I took compliments when I was called quirky. Eccentric even was nice. Now I have just gone off the deep end, into plain weird. But, as you will learn, I was not always this way. I once had it together and knew how to control the weirdness. Now it just kinda spews out like some verbal garbage. It’s gross. But if people can laugh at me and their day is brightened, then awesome. I am someone what a perfectionist. Okay, complete lie there. I am a total perfectionist. I have a little motto in my head that say I must be “prim and proper and polite” at all times. I am working on this. As we all know, this is impossible. I did not know this until recently. The fact that I thought I could be perfect has led me to many a mental illness which we will get into latter. That is not important when trying to learn about the essence of me. And I think the essence of me which you need to know is that I am quirky, caring, and I can see into your soul weather you want me too our not.

	That last part is a little creepy, but that is besides the point. I will know when you want help or need help, regardless if you think you do. And that freaks most people out. I’ve had this super lame “gift” since I can remember. It’s more of a hassle than anything and leaves me stressed out. At any given moment I am flipping through my phone seeing if  I have someone’s number to see if they are ok. I can usually tell you exactly what’s wrong with them, and that’s kinda sucky too. People think this is total BS until I call them at 10pm at night and tell them that no, they should not go spend their last $20 on a little bit of weed. That they should take some advil and a bath and go to sleep and they will be just fine. Just wait till I do it to you. You will be scared. The knowing what’s up with everyone has gotten my head into a tizzy more often than once. I don’t stop to smell the roses or you know think about myself and eat sometimes, because I get so worked up about everyone else. Maybe that shows a great thing about my character. Maybe not.

	I think the most important thing that you know about me is, I did lose me for awhile. For a good chunk of 2 year I would say. I think I was brain washed. I really don’t know. But when you fall under the spell of a sociopath’s love, you do what they want. Not to say I never loved him, because I did, and still do, and probably always will, but he screwed me up. When you are 16 and 17 and 18 you should be finding who you are. Not being pushed into some mold. And if you get anything out of what I write it is that. Because here I am at 19, trying to make up for lost time and it sucks. But like everything else, we will get back to that lost time, we will get back to the sociopath I love(d). Because, while love is insignificant, it is important. Expecially when you can say it helped create the monster the in your head.

	There are other little things about me that aren’t important. Hobbies, jobs held, heck even friends. These will fall into place when they need to. Setting of my life is a small town in California. Just think of where you live, it’s much like that. A suburban town with nothing to do, no where to go. Tons of time to get trapped in your head. I want you to step into my shoes, but don’t lose who you are. We are one on this journey. And you are in for a ride.

title: The beginning of my short life story

question: Summarize the narrator's appearance.

answer: The narrator is 19 years old, slightly overweight, and has large hips. They have shoulder length artificially-red hair, and they are 5'3.5" tall. They usually wear a dress, and they have two tattoos: one of an owl above their left ankle, and the kittens from the Aristocats around their right ribcage.

question: Summarize the narrator's "gift."

answer: The narrator claims to be able to see into people's souls and know when they need or want help. They call the ability "lame" and say it tends to stress them out, and it usually makes other people uncomfortable.

question: Summarize what happened to the narrator before this.

answer: The narrator was in a very controlling, possibly abusive, relationship. She describes her former partner as a "sociopath." The narrator says she loved them and probably always will, but they tried to push her into a mold.

question: Summarize what the narrator does for a living.


text:
The BOSTON BLOCK, also known as AALFS MANUFACTURING COMPANY, is a historic building located in Sioux City, Iowa, United States. The city experienced a building boom that began in the late 1880s and continued into the early 1890s. One of the major players in that building boom was the Boston Investment Company, a company on the East Coast who built four large commercial blocks in Sioux City simultaneously.[1] Construction on the four buildings began in 1890 and they were completed the following year. In addition to the commercial blocks, they also built a steam heating plant that provided steam and light to three of the buildings as well as to neighboring buildings. The Massachusetts Block (no longer extant) on the southwest corner of Fourth and Jackson was six stories tall and had a similar facade as the Boston Block, which is five stories tall on the northeast corner of Fourth and Virginia. The Plymouth Block on the southeast corner of Fourth and Locust was also five stories tall, and the Bay State Block on Fourth Street is the shortest at four stories.[2] Among the building's tenants was the Aalfs Manufacturing Company, which used the building as its headquarters.

The architect of the four buildings is unknown, but John G. Mainland served as supervising architect. The Boston Block is a Richardsonian Romanesque structure that features rusticated stone veneer with a two-story iron and glass storefront. The original storefront was extensively altered in 1948, and it was altered again in 1984.[3] The building was individually listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1985,[4] and as a contributing property in the Fourth Street Historic District in 1995.[5]

[1]  with

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]  with

title: Boston Block

question: Where is the Boston Block?

answer: Sioux City, Iowa

question: When was the Boston Block built?

answer: Construction began in 1890 and was completed the following year

question: What company used the building as its headquarters?

answer: Aalfs Manufacturing Company

question: Who was the supervising architect?

answer: John G. Mainland

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The Boston Block is a historic building in Sioux City, Iowa. It was completed in 1891 and once served as the headquarters for Aalfs Manufacturing Company.


text:
In the 1894–95 season, the English football team Everton F.C. finished second in the 1894–95 Football League. It was the team's best result since winning the League in 1891. Everton reached the quarterfinals of the F.A. Challenge Cup where they lost to Sheffield Wednesday F.C.

Regular Football League First team

Number of games in which this eleven lined up = 0

Other members of the first team squad

Bob Howarth was the biggest name to leave Goodison Park during the summer as he returned to Preston North End. This gave Charlie Parry the chance to win back the left back shirt that he had lost when Howarth had arrived two years earlier. Reserve goalkeepers, John Whitehead and David Jardine both moved on, to Liverpool and Nelson respectively to seemingly cement Richard Williams' place between the posts. Two other fringe players, defender, Billy Lindsay and half back, Jack Walker left in search of regular first team football at Grimsby and Ardwick respectively. The only major inclusion to the first team squad was the signing of Tom McInnes from Scottish side Third Lanark. He instantly slotted into the inside right birth while Jack Bell moved out to outside left with Alf Milward making way.

Everton got off to a flying start when winning all their opening eight games and talk of the title coming to Goodison Park was high by the time of the ninth game at Blackburn. It was here that Jack Southworth suffered a leg injury that ended his career and without him Everton's air of invincibility slipped. Blackburn came from behind to beat the ten men and Everton then suffered a string of draws before returning to winning ways. Fred Geary took over at centre forward but yet again found himself losing the berth as Abe Hartley proved more potent in front of goal. Despite having seen off two rivals, Richard Williams' place in goal remained one that the selectors aimed to rectify. Reserves William Sutton and Tom Cain each got their chance but both were considered unworthy, which saw the board spend £150 to bring 'Happy' Jack Hillman from Burnley with Williams leaving to join Luton. Hillman was established as the regular keeper by the end of the season.

Despite the loss of Southworth, Everton maintained a strong title challenge and topped the table throughout the remainder of 1894 before dropping to third after a defeat by Wednesday on New Year's Day 1895. Everton never regained top spot and their failure to win the title was put down to their failing to win any of their final three games when victories would have seen them crowned champions. The first of the trio of games was a shock 2–3 reverse against Derby when a draw would have been enough to take them top. It was the penultimate game that proved crucial however.

The destiny of the title was still in Everton's hands going into the final two games but their opponents in the first of those two games were title rivals Sunderland at Newcastle Road in what was effectively a title decider. This was Sunderland's final game and they needed only to draw to clinch the title for themselves. Twenty thousand people saw Sunderland win the match and the championship with a 2–1 scoreline and rendered Everton's final game meaningless. As it was, Everton could only draw that game at Aston Villa 2–2, a result which would have taken the title to Sunderland regardless.

Everton's best season since being crowned champions in 1891 was viewed on Merseyside as a huge disappointment as everyone connected with the club felt that the title had been theirs to win and instead had been gift wrapped for a Sunderland side who, while deserving champions, seemed flattered by their five-point margin of victory. In addition Sunderland had taken three of the four points on offer from their encounters with Everton that season, making claims by Evertonians that the better side had finished second ring a little hollow.

The Football League

+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| DATE      | OPPONENTS | HOME/     | RESULT    | SCORERS   | ATTENDANC |
|           |           | AWAY      | F – A     |           | E         |
+===========+===========+===========+===========+===========+===========+
| 1         | Sheffield | H         | 3–1       | Tom       | 19,000    |
| September | Wednesday |           |           | McInnes,  |           |
| 1894      |           |           |           | Edgar     |           |
|           |           |           |           | Chadwick, |           |
|           |           |           |           | Jack Bell |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 3         | Small     | H         | 5–0       | Jack Bell | 8,000     |
| September | Heath     |           |           | {2}, JACK |           |
| 1894      |           |           |           | SOUTHWORT |           |
|           |           |           |           | H         |           |
|           |           |           |           | (3)       |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 8         | Stoke     | A         | 3–1       | Alex      | 5,000     |
| September |           |           |           | Latta,    |           |
| 1894      |           |           |           | Tom       |           |
|           |           |           |           | McInnes,  |           |
|           |           |           |           | Edgar     |           |
|           |           |           |           | Chadwick  |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 15        | Nottingha | H         | 6–1       | Alex      | 15,000    |
| September | m         |           |           | Latta,    |           |
| 1894      | Forest    |           |           | Tom       |           |
|           |           |           |           | McInnes,  |           |
|           |           |           |           | JACK      |           |
|           |           |           |           | SOUTHWORT |           |
|           |           |           |           | H         |           |
|           |           |           |           | (3), Jack |           |
|           |           |           |           | Bell      |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 22        | Nottingha | A         | 3–2       | Edgar     | 7,000     |
| September | m         |           |           | Chadwick, |           |
| 1894      | Forest    |           |           | Jack      |           |
|           |           |           |           | Southwort |           |
|           |           |           |           | h,        |           |
|           |           |           |           | Jack Bell |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 29        | West      | H         | 4–1       | Edgar     | 19,900    |
| September | Bromwich  |           |           | Chadwick, |           |
| 1894      | Albion    |           |           | Jack      |           |
|           |           |           |           | Southwort |           |
|           |           |           |           | h,        |           |
|           |           |           |           | Jack      |           |
|           |           |           |           | Bell, Tom |           |
|           |           |           |           | McInnes   |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 6 October | Bolton    | A         | 3–1       | Edgar     | 14,000    |
| 1894      | Wanderers |           |           | Chadwick, |           |
|           |           |           |           | Tom       |           |
|           |           |           |           | McInnes,  |           |
|           |           |           |           | Alex      |           |
|           |           |           |           | Latta     |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 13        | Liverpool | H         | 3–0       | Alex      | 44,000    |
| October   |           |           |           | Latta,    |           |
| 1894      |           |           |           | Tom       |           |
|           |           |           |           | McInnes,  |           |
|           |           |           |           | Jack Bell |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 20        | Blackburn | A         | 3–4       | Abe       | 15,000    |
| October   | Rovers    |           |           | Hartley,  |           |
| 1894      |           |           |           | Jack      |           |
|           |           |           |           | Southwort |           |
|           |           |           |           | h,        |           |
|           |           |           |           | Edgar     |           |
|           |           |           |           | Chadwick  |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 27        | Sunderlan | H         | 2–2       | Dickie    | 15,000    |
| October   | d         |           |           | Boyle,    |           |
| 1894      |           |           |           | Tom       |           |
|           |           |           |           | McInnes   |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 3         | Small     | A         | 4–4       | ALEX      | 10,000    |
| November  | Heath     |           |           | LATTA     |           |
| 1894      |           |           |           | (3), Jack |           |
|           |           |           |           | Bell      |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 17        | Liverpool | A         | 2–2       | Alex      | 30,000    |
| November  |           |           |           | Latta,    |           |
| 1894      |           |           |           | Bob Kelso |           |
|           |           |           |           | {penalty} |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 24        | Blackburn | H         | 2–1       | Alf       | 18,000    |
| November  |           |           |           | Milward,  |           |
| 1894      |           |           |           | Jack Bell |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 1         | West      | A         | 4–1       | Alf       | 18,000    |
| December  | Bromwich  |           |           | Milward,  |           |
| 1894      | Albion    |           |           | Alex      |           |
|           |           |           |           | Latta,    |           |
|           |           |           |           | Edgar     |           |
|           |           |           |           | Chadwick, |           |
|           |           |           |           | Billy     |           |
|           |           |           |           | Stewart   |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 8         | Bolton    | H         | 3–1       | Alex      | 12,000    |
| December  | Wanderers |           |           | Latta,    |           |
| 1894      |           |           |           | Edgar     |           |
|           |           |           |           | Chadwick, |           |
|           |           |           |           | Tom       |           |
|           |           |           |           | McInnes   |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 15        | Preston   | A         | 2–1       | Abe       | 10,000    |
| December  | North End |           |           | Hartley,  |           |
| 1894      |           |           |           | Alf       |           |
|           |           |           |           | Milward   |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 1 January | The       | A         | 0–3       |           | 20,000    |
| 1895      | Wednesday |           |           |           |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 5 January | Wolves    | A         | 0–1       |           | 6,000     |
| 1895      |           |           |           |           |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 7 January | Stoke     | H         | 3–0       | Bill      | 6,000     |
| 1895      |           |           |           | Williams, |           |
|           |           |           |           | Fred      |           |
|           |           |           |           | Geary,    |           |
|           |           |           |           | Edgar     |           |
|           |           |           |           | Chadwick  |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 12        | Derby     | A         | 2–2       | Fred      | 1,500     |
| January   | County    |           |           | Geary,    |           |
| 1895      |           |           |           | Charlie   |           |
|           |           |           |           | Parry     |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 17        | Aston     | H         | 4–2       | Fred      | 15,000    |
| January   | Villa     |           |           | Geary,    |           |
| 1895      |           |           |           | Alf       |           |
|           |           |           |           | Milward   |           |
|           |           |           |           | (2), Jack |           |
|           |           |           |           | Bell      |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 26        | Sheffield | H         | 1–1       | Tom       | 15,000    |
| January   | United    |           |           | McInnes   |           |
| 1895      |           |           |           |           |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 23        | Preston   | H         | 4–2       | Alf       | 20,000    |
| February  | North End |           |           | Milward,  |           |
| 1895      |           |           |           | Abe       |           |
|           |           |           |           | Hartley,  |           |
|           |           |           |           | Edgar     |           |
|           |           |           |           | Chadwick, |           |
|           |           |           |           | Jack Bell |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 26        | Sheffield | A         | 2–4       | Abe       | 12,000    |
| February  | United    |           |           | Hartley,  |           |
| 1895      |           |           |           | Tom       |           |
|           |           |           |           | McInnes   |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 16 March  | Burnley   | A         | 4–2       | Billy     | 8,000     |
| 1895      |           |           |           | Stewart,  |           |
|           |           |           |           | Jack      |           |
|           |           |           |           | Bell,     |           |
|           |           |           |           | Edgar     |           |
|           |           |           |           | Chadwick, |           |
|           |           |           |           | Alf       |           |
|           |           |           |           | Milward   |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 21 March  | Burnley   | H         | 3–2       | Jack      | 8,000     |
| 1895      |           |           |           | Bell, Alf |           |
|           |           |           |           | Milward,  |           |
|           |           |           |           | Alex      |           |
|           |           |           |           | Latta     |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 8 April   | Wolves    | H         | 2–1       | Jack      | 6,000     |
| 1895      |           |           |           | Bell, Alf |           |
|           |           |           |           | Milward   |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 13 April  | Derby     | H         | 2–3       | Alf       | 10,000    |
| 1895      | County    |           |           | Milward,  |           |
|           |           |           |           | Fred      |           |
|           |           |           |           | Geary     |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 20 April  | Sunderlan | A         | 1–2       | Edgar     | 20,000    |
| 1895      | d         |           |           | Chadwick  |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 24 April  | Aston     | A         | 2–2       | Dickie    | 5,000     |
| 1895      | Villa     |           |           | Boyle,    |           |
|           |           |           |           | Abe       |           |
|           |           |           |           | Hartley   |           |
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+

First Division final table

                                 P    W    D    L    F    A    GA      Pts
  ---- ------------------------- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ------- -----
  1    Sunderland                30   21   5    4    80   37   2.162   47
  2    EVERTON                   30   18   6    6    82   50   1.640   42
  3    Aston Villa               30   17   5    8    82   43   1.907   39
  4    Preston North End         30   15   5    10   62   46   1.348   35
  5    Blackburn Rovers          30   11   10   9    59   49   1.204   32
  6    Sheffield United          30   14   4    12   57   55   1.036   32
  7    Nottingham Forest         30   13   5    12   50   56   0.893   31
  8    The Wednesday             30   12   4    14   50   55   0.909   28
  9    Burnley                   30   11   4    15   44   56   0.786   26
  10   Bolton Wanderers          30   9    7    14   61   62   0.984   25
  11   Wolverhampton Wanderers   30   9    7    14   43   63   0.683   25
  12   Small Heath               30   9    7    14   50   74   0.676   25
  13   West Bromwich Albion      30   10   4    16   51   66   0.773   24
  14   Stoke                     30   9    6    15   50   67   0.746   24
  15   Derby County              30   7    9    14   45   68   0.662   23
  16   Liverpool[1]              30   7    8    15   51   70   0.729   22

Football Association Challenge Cup

+---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+
| DATE    | ROUND   | OPPONEN | HOME/   | RESULT  | SCORERS | ATTENDA |
|         |         | TS      | AWAY    | F – A   |         | NCE     |
+=========+=========+=========+=========+=========+=========+=========+
| 2       | First   | Southpo | A       | 3–0     | Jack    | 7,000   |
| Februar |         | rt      |         |         | Bell    |         |
| y       |         |         |         |         | (3)     |         |
| 1895    |         |         |         |         |         |         |
+---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+
| 16      | Second  | Blackbu | H       | 1–1     | Edgar   | 20,000  |
| Februar |         | rn      |         |         | Chadwic |         |
| y       |         |         |         |         | k       |         |
| 1895    |         |         |         |         |         |         |
+---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+
| 20      | replay  | Blackbu | A       | 3–2     | Edgar   | 20,000  |
| Februar |         | rn      |         |         | Chadwic |         |
| y       |         |         |         |         | k       |         |
| 1895    |         |         |         |         | (2),    |         |
|         |         |         |         |         | Abe     |         |
|         |         |         |         |         | Hartley |         |
+---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+
| 2 March | Quarter | The     | A       | 0–2     |         | 9,000   |
| 1895    | final   | Wednesd |         |         |         |         |
|         |         | ay      |         |         |         |         |
+---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+

Club League records set this season

-   Most points in a season {42}
-   Most home points in a season {26}
-   Most away points in a season {16}
-   Most victories in a season {18}
-   Most victories at home in a season {12}
-   Most drawn games in a season {6}
-   Most games drawn away from home in a season {4}
-   Equalled fewest home defeats in a season {1}
-   Most goal scored away from home in a season {35}
-   Alex Latta scored a club record sixth league hat-trick this season
-   Equalled longest winning sequence in a season {8}
-   Longest home winning sequence in a season {7}
-   Equalled longest unbeaten sequence in a season {8}
-   Longest unbeaten home sequence in a season {14}
-   Longest sequence of drawn games in a season {3}
-   Longest sequence of away drawn games {2}

Negative club records

-   Equalled longest away sequence without a win {4}

[1] Not re-elected after losing 'Test Match.' Invited to join Second Division

title: 1894–95 Everton F.C. season

question: What position did Everton FC finish on the league table in the 1894-95 season?

answer: They finished second on the table.

question: Which player profited the most when Bob Howarth left Everton for Preston North End?

answer: Charlie Parry benefited by winning back the left-back shirt that he lost to Howarth two years ago.

question: How many games did Everton win in a row at the start of the season?

answer: They won their first eight games in a row.

question: What was one of the events that derailed Everton's title challenge?

answer: Jack Southworth's career-ending injury.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Everton ended the 1894-95 season as second on the Football League table. That season started with a bang with the club winning its first eight games. However, the injury to Jack Southworth robbed the team of their confidence as they start to lose points to their rivals.


text:
   At 2:00am I had to go to the bathroom so I got out of bed. The bathroom light was already on and standing inside was my brother, casting a dreary brown gaze into the mirror, razorblade in hand, slicing off chunks of long bristly hairs from under his chin. Earlier in the night, during dinner, Mom and Dad had appraised his unkempt look.

   “You’re not helping your chances.” Dad said.

   “Why do you keep it?” Mom asked. My brother hadn’t shaved since he moved back in. Striding past him across the hall and down the stairs I could hear the fragile knocking of rain atop the roof and against the windows. Before I stepped into the downstairs bathroom I flicked on the floodlight out back to take a look. It must have been coming down for a while because I could see two small puddles that had pooled themselves in a little depression on the far side of our yard. In their reflections I caught glimpses of the woods that lay past our home. The leaves were gone now. It was getting cold. All there was to see were barren brown branches and ashen tree trunks. Those puddles looked so trapped and dreary all wadded-down in that little depression.

   “Don’t worry little puddles, It’s not gunna rain forever. Things’ll dry up.” After I finished in the bathroom I walked back up the stairs and past my brother again. This time he had his beard trimmed down and there was shaving cream over his face and around his lips and he was making short choppy strokes at his cheeks with a disposable razor. I stopped in the doorway for only a moment. I wasn't used to him again. His petrified self-stare: a pillar of salt.

   By morning the rain had stopped and as my parents and I were leaving for work we could hear my brother in his bedroom getting ready for his interview.

   “Did you shave?” Dad asked.

   “Yeah.” My parents smiled at each other.

   “Good luck!” Mom wished as she stepped out with Dad. I reached for my keys from the counter and my brother came out of his room. He had cuff-linked his wrists, had a tie wrapped around his neck, and was sporting a terribly fuzzy mustache that crawled over his lip. I gave him a smirk as I grabbed my keys and he lilted his eyebrows at me like he used to do when we were younger, before he moved away. He almost looked happy. I walked out to my car and as I pulled away I wondered if those sad little puddles had any chance to escape, before they froze.

title: Puddles

question: What had happened to the narrator's brother to make him not want to shave?

answer: It seems he might be depressed.

question: Are "puddles" a metaphor?

answer: It seems they are a metaphor for depression.

question: Why are the parents and brother awake at 2:00am?

answer: They might be anxious about his interview the following morning.

question: How long had it been since the narrator's brother had shaved?

answer: We know it had been at least since he moved back into the family home.

question: Write a ~7 sentence summary.

answer:
The narrator wakes at 2:00am one evening to see their brother tackling the shaving of his chin hair and beard region, with their parents looking on. They criticize him, as he hasn't shaved since he moved back into their house. He has an interview in the morning, and they want him to look his best. Before the author returns to bed, they gaze out the window at obstinate puddles in the drive way.

The following morning, the narrator and their parents are getting ready for work.The narrator's brother appears and has perhaps defiantly shaved all but his mustache area. The narrator catches his eye as they grab their keys. As the narrator pulls away in their car, they wonder if those puddles have escaped before they were frozen over.


text:
20th July 2019

[]

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t immediately start thinking about planning our wedding from the day we got engaged. Nothing _too_ intensive but naturally, I couldn’t help but picture what our special day might look like. We’re now over six months on (!) and it’s safe to say I’ve already learnt quite a lot from planning…

A long engagement is the way forward

I genuinely don’t know how people handle planning weddings in a short amount of time. We were in no particular rush to get married ASAP so have booked our wedding for Spring 2021. I really want us to be able to enjoy the process from start to finish and I have friends who have found the whole thing incredibly stressful and while I’m aware stress comes with the territory, I want to reduce it as much as possible. Being able to spread out the cost was also a bonus for us as I hate the thought of us being totally consumed by the cost of the wedding, especially if you’re doing everything in such a short amount of time. It’s always going to be pricey but it feels a lot more manageable now. When we paid our deposit it felt like the date was ages away and now it’s already less that two years away. Time is going _very_ quickly.

Your Day, Your Way

I think we are all perfectly capable of having different opinions but knowing not to publicly share this opinion, especially when it’s on a topic that someone is currently in the thick of and more importantly, isn’t particularly helpful in the slightest. Since being engaged, I’ve found myself around people who like to scoff about weddings being a waste of money and it only being ‘one day’ in front of me. Perhaps they are trying to be reassuring but I find this pretty frustrating when you’re planning a wedding and feel like your experience is being diminished in some way. Nobody should have to feel rubbish because god forbid, they want to spend their hard-earned cash on some giant light up letters, however silly it may seem to _you_. For me personally, I am aware that the costs of a wedding can quickly get out of control and I’m determined to keep a rein on things, refusing to allow this one event to financially take the rest of our lives hostage for two years. But at the same time, I also know how short life is. How money is there for spending, not taking to the grave. And if I want to throw one hell of a party for our family and friends, I’m sure as hell going to do it. I’m just not going to let it financially screw us other. Ultimately, a wedding is about celebrating two people who love each other but all the other bits? They’re pretty nice too. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with wanting them either.

Visit multiple venues

While I had a fairly good idea of the venue I thought we’d like the most, we took the time to book in and visit a few different options so we could be completely certain. We tried to see a few different _types_ of venues to cover all bases and it really helped us to work out exactly what we wanted. And actually, for me, visiting venues is a really lovely way to spend a day! Once we were fairly set on a venue, we then took our family to an open day of the potential choice. Not only were we able to see the venue dressed up as it would be for a wedding (and get lots of ideas in the process) but it was a lovely way to involve our parents and get their opinions and suggestions. I’d thoroughly recommend seeing your desired venue a couple of times too so you can be completely certain.

Compromise is key

Bridal magazines and Pinterest are a dream when you’re planning a wedding but I also think they can be slightly dangerous too. I’ve found that while great for inspiration and getting you excited for the big day, they can make you want the most ridiculous things that you don’t need or actually _really_ want but magically become convinced you do, thanks to a few alluring photos. Unless you’ve got buckets of money, it’s not realistic to be able to have everything and compromising is gonna have to happen. Luckily, I think when push has come to shove and we’ve had to make decisions based on our budget, what we really want and what really matters to us always come through. And unfortunately, it’s not a flower wall. _Sigh._

To pay deposits ASAP

Having never planned a big event before, the money side of things felt really daunting. Even though (as above) we’ve deliberately given ourselves a long engagement, I’m well aware that time soon slips away and before you know it, there’s only a matter of weeks to go. Something I’ve found really helpful is to secure as many suppliers by paying as many deposits as possible. Venue and catering aside, other supplier deposits feel a bit more doable compared to when you look at the total cost of everything and you want to have a little cry. Sure, you’re still going to have to pay that total amount eventually but it buys you a bit of breathing space in knowing your desired vendor is booked and also helping you work out a saving/payment schedule to work towards.

Wedding fayres aren’t for me

Now I’m not sure if it’s because we went to our first wedding fayre fairly soon after we got engaged (what can I say, I was excited!), but rather than feeling excited about the prospect of getting married while there, I felt incredibly overwhelmed. Now don’t get me wrong, everyone seemed nice enough but the set up was simply not something that sat well with me. I didn’t enjoy wandering around the stalls, vendors trying to catch your eye. I wanted to look and get ideas, sure, but I didn’t (and this makes me sound awful) actually want to talk to people. Maybe this says more about me and how _I_ prefer to do things but I definitely enjoy being hunched over my laptop for hours, visiting websites and Instagram, pouring over reviews and other peoples weddings, losing myself in an endless hole of wedding research. While I understand fayres are a great place to find local suppliers, I still can’t help but feel this is easily done online and is even easier when you find a venue who often have a list of recommended suppliers local to your venue.

Have you planned a wedding or are you in the midst of doing so? I’d love to know what you’ve learnt in the process as well as your biggest tips. Let me know in the comments!

Emily>

question: What does the excerpt say about planning a wedding?

answer: Emily says the the process of planning a wedding is incredibly stressful, but the stress can be managed by planning enough time before the wedding, she planned a wedding several years out. This also allows for the costs to be spread out over time and makes them less daunting. She suggests that it's okay to spend a lot on a wedding, because money is meant to be spent not taken to the grave. She asserts that a party for her friends is a worthy thing to spend on. Emily recommends seeing many possible venues. She also acknowledges that one may need to compromise.


text:
THE WOODLANDS, TX -- Local marketing automation expert Kyle Hamer of Hamer Marketing Group in The Woodlands, interviewed featured guest Mike Hallaron about building remarkable business brands. In 2003, Hallaron founded Hallaron Advertising Agency. Based in The Woodlands, the agency was just named to Houston Business Journal's Fast 100 list of the fastest-growing privately held companies.

Ad agency founder Mike Hallaron talks branding on Summit Marketing Podcast

Listen to podcast now: https://bit.ly/2k5vUPF

Hallaron’s services include advertising, branding, marketing, website development, media buying and planning, digital marketing, public relations, and creative design. Hallaron follows a strategy-first approach to advertising expressed in its discovery process called Ignite.

Ignite uses research and analysis to understand product and industry conventions and form useful strategic insights before writing a new strategy. Creative then flows from strategy and takes advantage of critical differentiation factors revealed in Ignite. It is an unorthodox, diagnostic marketing methodology that maximizes unique traits and specific differentiators from competitors.

Clients of Hallaron include Aggreko, Uretek, GMA Garnet, Diageo, Pier 1, Mattress Firm, Dormeo Mattress, Filtration Technology Corporation, Lone Star Regional Airport4, Marcel Group, Cestoil, and Safeway Driving

Kyle Hamer is CEO and co-founder of Hamer Marketing Group in The Woodlands, a consultancy focused on marketing automation solutions and services. Learn more at https://www.hamermarketinggroup.com.

question: Write a ~0 sentence summary.


text:
 A lone man stands with the only mind that knows the full story. With eyes covered in tears, he looks to the beach of the reservoir; to his surprise he had left no footprints in the sediment. Not that it mattered.
 His thoughts, as unfocused as they were, had one thing in common, what lied in front of him.

At least once in every man’s life, he will reach a problem that he cannot explain. Whether or not this problem is self-inflicted isn’t important, what is important is how he tries to solve it.

Much like other men he turned to those who have never helped him before, those whose faces have never been seen, and voices never heard.

The man laid down his head and whispered:

          Oh supreme, who has seen my Struggle
          Who has seen my truths and tale
          Oh supreme who helps those who deserve it not
          Who gives wealth to those who need the wrought
          Oh supreme who as heard all
          But only listened to the greedy
          Not the needy
          Oh supreme will you give me the knowledge
          Or shall I stay alone as always

He received no answer.

Looking at the body that lied before him, he felt only the purest fear. He looked at the dull eyes, the eyes that used to see, and glisten, but now are pale and only see death.
The torso showed twelve lumps could be seen on each side, and the waist has not seen nourishment for many days prior to the death. Inside the most expensive of shoes, two feet twisted in unnatural ways.

These were the same shoes the living man had worn, and with those shoes they both had the same suit hanging on their body.

With further observation one could tell that the man first broke his ankles, and with no motivation did not crawl to help. For it is not uncommon for the greatest of men to fall, and never to get back up.

title: Oh Supreme- Open to Criticism

question: How did the protagonist end up near the reservoir?

answer: This question is not answered.

question: Summarize everything related to the body that the protagonist finds.

answer: The protagonist finds the body near the reservoir. There are 12 lumps on its torso, and is emaciated and malnourished. The feet are twisted in unnatural ways.


text:
9/6/2013
Last night I had the most vivid dream that I can ever recall having.

I am a passenger in a SUV driving on an interstate.
There are four lanes, the cement is very light in color. So new that there are no cracks, just those long grooves in the pavement that run in the direction of traffic.
I do not know who my driver is, but I am not alarmed or nervous so it must be someone that I trust.
In front of our vehicle is a low pickup truck, like an old S-10. The back of the pickup is piled high with furniture. There are boxes low in the pile and on top a wicker table and chair set.
The flow of traffic comes to a halt. Maybe an accident, maybe just the long slinky bunching up.
As traffic begins to move again, the pickup lurches from the halt and several pieces of furniture come loose and scatter onto the pavement.
My driver is alert. He brakes safely and puts on his hazard lights.
The driver of the pickup exits his vehicle and shuffles back to attend to the dislodged furniture.
He is Latino and wearing the common jeans, pearl button shirt and cowboy boots so often associated with ethnicities from Latin America.
I push my head out the passenger window and offer to help him reload but he waves off our help with a smile.
It is then that time seemed to slow.
With my head out of my window I can see down the side of the pickup ahead of us and back along the traffic lane to our right through the passenger side mirror.
My attention splits and I seem to see both the tractor trailer approaching from the rear and the passenger of the pickup opening her door at the same time.
I want to yell but traffic is moving gain and I know she won’t hear me. She opens her door and gets out. Moving slowly, unaware of the increasing danger.
I feel useless. The semi is so close that if I were to try to help I would be crushed long before I could reach her.
I am watching her. I cannot tear my eyes away.
Still unaware, she closes her door and takes a quick moment to straighten her colorful skirt.
She even takes a few steps before her eyes lift and the calm and resigned look on her face is shattered and replaced by one of pure terror.
Time speeds up again.
She tries to run but barely makes a quarter turn before the truck is upon her.
Her body becomes a ragdoll.
It is over in a second, punctuated only by the sounds of chaos. The roar of the wind caused by the passing truck. The squeal of tires as the truck drivers last second attempt to avoid her sets the trailer fishtailing.
It does nothing.
Traffic once again comes to a halt. This one is a screeching, honking sudden halt. Not the kind that incites anger. The kind that leaves the driver thankful that they aren’t the reason everyone is braking.
The girl’s body was dragged past the front of the pickup and all I can see of her is her leg. It is crushed. There are only a few inches of ragged flesh below her knee still attached.
I glance back through the mirror one more time and throw my door open.
I can’t sprint fast enough. My legs and my body are failing me. I hate them for being so slow.
Halfway to her, I rip my belt from the loops of my pants. I know if she is to have any chance of living I need to tourniquet her leg. And soon.
When I turn the corner at the front of the pickup, and see her body, my breath catches. She is lying face down. Her limbs are thrown about haphazardly. She looks like a child’s toy. Discarded, forgotten.
The pickup driver is turning the opposite corner and our eyes meet. His face shows shock, horror and confusion.
I drop to my knees and throw my belt around the girl’s thigh. There is already a growing pool of dark red blood forming below her amputation.
I feed the belt through the buckle and put my knee on her leg above the belt for leverage. Gripping the free end of the belt, I pull with all my force. As the loop tightens the spurting bloods slows.
A few other people have gotten out of their cars and have approached us. The pickup’s driver has fallen on all fours over the girl’s upper body.
“Mi Chica, Mi Chica” He sobs.
I tie off the belt and try to examine the rest of the girl. Her leg can’t have been the only injury.
Her skirt had been ripped away, and her blouse was twisted and bunched near her neck. Her exposed skin was abraded and already beginning to bruise.
As I unfold a pocket knife the man looks up. Seeing the blade his eyes widen. He has no idea what my purpose is.
I point to her blouse. And mime scissors.
Realization dawns and he nods.
I carefully feed my blade under the blouse and cut away from her skin.
My heart drops.
I fall back onto my heels.
With the blouse removed I can see her face staring upwards. Her neck grotesquely twisted completely around like some sick marionette puppet.
I can faintly hear the sirens in the distance. Racing towards us to render aid no longer needed.
But drowning it out is a rising wail, a sound infused with pain, anger and despair.
The driver’s forehead is on the girls, he his buddy is shuddering.
I wake up.

Cholulaman

title: My belt, a tourniquet

question: Does the narrator have a romantic interest?

answer: That information isn't available in the story.

question: What is the most negative event of the story?

answer: The girl is run over and killed by a truck.

question: What can't the narrator tear their eyes from?

answer: He can't tear his eyes away from the girl getting out of the pickup and into traffic.

question: What emotions does the narrator experience in this story?

answer: The narrator seems to experience horror, shock, and sadness.

question: How many characters are in the story?

answer: There are three main characters: the narrator, the pickup driver, and the girl.

question: Describe the pickup driver.

answer: The narrator describes the pickup driver as being Latino and wearing common jeans, a pearl button shirt, and cowboy boots.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator describes a dream they had where they were being driven on what seems to be a highway. A pickup truck stops in front of them due to his furniture flying out of the trunk. The pickup driver's daughter gets out of the car, and, to the narrator's horror, he watches her get hit by a truck. The narrator rushes to tourniquet her leg, but it's too late. The narrator watches the pickup driver mourn over his daughter before he wakes up.