text:
OGUGUA “OG” ANUNOBY JR. (born 17 July 1997) is a British-Nigerian professional basketball player for the Toronto Raptors of the National Basketball Association (NBA). He played college basketball for the Indiana Hoosiers.

Early life

Anunoby was born in London to Nigerian parents.[1] His father Ogugua Sr., who was born and raised in Nigeria, taught as a professor in England at the time.[2][3] Anunoby's mother died of cancer when he was one year old.[4] When he was four years old, Anunoby's family moved to the United States to Jefferson City, Missouri,[5] where his late father was a professor of finance at Lincoln University.[6] His older brother, Chigbo, is a former National Football League (NFL) player who played for the Cleveland Browns, Tennessee Titans and Minnesota Vikings, before joining medical school.[7]

High school

Anunoby played for Jefferson City High School.[8] During his senior season, he averaged 19.1 points and 8.6 rebounds per game and was named a finalist for Mr. Basketball in the state of Missouri.[9] In October 2014, Anunoby chose to attend Indiana University[10] over Georgia, Iowa, George Mason, and Ole Miss.

College career

Freshman year

As a freshman in 2015–16 at Indiana, Anunoby appeared in 34 games, averaging 4.9 points, 2.6 rebounds and 0.5 assists per game.[11][12]

Sophomore year

Anunoby was selected as a Pre-season All-American by _The Sporting News_.[13] On 18 January 2017, Anunoby injured his right knee against Penn State, causing him to undergo season-ending knee surgery.[14] On 10 April 2017, Anunoby declared his intention to enter the 2017 NBA Draft and hire an agent, ending his tenure with the Hoosiers.[15]

Professional career

Toronto Raptors (2017–present)

On 22 June 2017, Anunoby was selected with the 23rd overall pick in the 2017 NBA draft by the Toronto Raptors.[16] On 9 July, he signed a rookie-scale contract with the Raptors.[17] On 14 November, Anunoby made his first career start, against the Houston Rockets.[18] He finished the game with 16 points, 2 rebounds, 1 assist and 1 steal in 30 minutes. By December 15 he led starter rookies in offensive and defensive rating, besides having the third most True Scoring % and best Turnover-to-Assist ratio for a non-guard.[19] On 3 April 2018, he hit his first ever buzzer beater, against the Cleveland Cavaliers.[20]

On 29 January 2019, Anunoby was named a member of the World Team for the 2019 Rising Stars Challenge.[21] In April 2019, Anunoby had an emergency appendectomy,[22] which caused him to miss most of the Raptors' championship playoff run. He dressed for the NBA Finals but did not play.[23]

On 1 March 2020, Anunoby recorded a career-high 32 points and seven steals, along with seven rebounds and three assists in a 133–118 loss against the Denver Nuggets.[24] He hit a game-winning buzzer-beating three-pointer on 3 September, in a 104–103 win in Game 3 of the Eastern Conference semifinals against the Boston Celtics, and finished with 12 points. The buzzer-beater prevented the Raptors from going down to an 0–3 deficit to the Celtics.[25] The Raptors would eventually fall in seven games.

Career statistics

NBA

Regular season

|- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”| Toronto | 74 || 62 || 20.0 || .471 || .371 || .629 || 2.5 || .7 || .7 || .2 || 5.9 |- | style=“text-align:left;background:#afe6ba;”| † | style=“text-align:left;”| Toronto | 67 || 6 || 20.2 || .453 || .332 || .581 || 2.9 || .7 || .7 || .3 || 7.0 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”| Toronto | 69 || 68 || 29.9 || .505 || .390 || .706 || 5.3 || 1.6 || 1.4 || .7 || 10.6 |- class=“sortbottom” | style=“text-align:center;” colspan=“2”| Career | 210 || 136 || 23.3 || .480 || .365 || .650 || 3.5 || 1.0 || .9 || .4 || 7.8

Playoffs

|- | style=“text-align:left;”| 2018 | style=“text-align:left;”| Toronto | 10 || 10 || 23.8 || .558|| .448 || .727 || 2.1 || .7 || .6 || .4 || 7.9 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| 2020 | style=“text-align:left;”| Toronto | 11 || 11 || 35.7 || .455 || .415 || .643 || 6.9 || 1.2 || 1.0 || 1.2 || 10.5 |- class=“sortbottom” | style=“text-align:center;” colspan=“2”| Career | 21 || 21 || 30.0 || .493 || .429 || .667 || 4.6 || 1.0 || .8 || .8 || 9.2

College

|- | style=“text-align:left;”| 2015–16 | style=“text-align:left;”| Indiana | 34 || 0 || 13.7 || .569 || .448 || .476 || 2.6 || .5 || .8 || .8 || 4.9 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| 2016–17 | style=“text-align:left;”| Indiana | 16 || 10 || 25.1 || .557 || .311 || .563 || 5.4 || 1.4 || 1.3 || 1.3 || 11.1 |- class=“sortbottom” | style=“text-align:center;” colspan=“2”| Career | 50 || 10 || 17.4 || .563 || .365 || .522 || 3.5 || .8 || 1.0 || .9 || 6.8

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8] The unexpected rise of Hoosiers freshman OG Anunoby

[9]

[10] Hoosiers land 2015 wing OG Anunoby

[11] IU player profile: High hope for OG Anunoby

[12] Indiana's OG Anunoby could be the NBA's next great lockdown defender

[13]

[14]

[15]

[16]

[17]

[18]

[19]

[20]

[21] https://www.nba.com/article/2019/01/29/2019-mtn-dew-ice-rising-stars-roster-official-release

[22]

[23]

[24]

[25]

title: OG Anunoby

question: What team does OG Anunoby play for?

answer: The Toronto Raptors (he previously played college basketball for the Indiana Hoosiers)

question: What schools did OG Anunoby study at?

answer: Jefferson City High School and Indiana University

question: Name the members of OG Anunoby's family.

answer: Ogugua Sr. (his father), his mother, and Chigbo (his older brother)

question: Summarize Anunoby's career during 2019.

answer: In 2019, he was named a member of the World Team for the 2019 Rising Stars Challenge. He also had an emergency appendectomy and missed the Raptors' championship playoff run as a result.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: OG Anunoby is a British-Nigerian basketball player who plays for the Toronto Raptors. He was recruited in 2017. An emergency apendectomy caused him to miss most of the team's championship playoff run in 2019. In 2020, he recorded a career-high of 32 points and 7 steals.


split: train

text:
We've been inundated in recent weeks on social media with the hastag #NewYearNewMe, but we can't help but think that this is a bit drastic - so we've decided to focus on improving what we've already got - be it ourselves or our homes. So many of us choose this time of year to revitalise and start a-fresh, giving-up our vices for a month, 12 months or a lifetime, in pursuit of a healthier, more energetic lifestyle.  Some of our resolutions include the usuals of drinking more water, cleansing every night and, of course, completely implementing Deliciously Ella's latest tome - finally spiralizing any item of veg that comes our way.

When in doubt about our own well-being, we always ask our favourite nutrition & juicing expert, the gorgeous Coral - co-founder of 42Juice in Brighton & Hove. Coral's love for nutrition started when she fell ill with meningitis in 2006 when her quick recovery was helped by eating a macrobiotic diet, which she would prepare with her father daily. Coral went on to study nutrition and weight management, personal training, and travel to India to train in Ashtanga Yoga and Ayurveda.

[The French Bedroom Company Blog, New Year Detox: For your & your home with Coral of 42 Juice Brighton]

Co-Founders of 42 JuiceCoral & Natalie; 42Juice Hove.

We asked Coral for her Top 3 tips when considering a detox:

1.  _"Always try to start a detox when you know that your social calendar is pretty free. Doing a juice cleanse can be pretty testing for your willpower as it is, even without putting temptation right in front of you by going out for dinners or drinks - you don't want to have to feel awkward by having to say 'no' all the time either, so try scheduling a cleanse when you don't have much planned and keep life simple._
2.  _Try to cut out things like caffeine, sugar, meat, alcohol and processed food about a week before starting a juice cleanse. This way your body will have time to slowly detox from things that can give you pretty grim withdrawal symptoms when coming off them. Cutting out solid food can be challenging enough without having to go cold turkey from coffee too!_
3.  _Emptying your fridge of food is always a good idea when embarking on a juice detox, so nothing is likely to lead you to temptation!"_

If we were to brave a full 3-5 day juice cleanse, what can we expect?

"_The first few days of a detox can be tough so be prepared for a roller-coaster, you may be one of the lucky ones who find it really easy right from the start. If you do struggle initially though, always hang in there... If you can manage 3-5 days then after the initial 3 days you genuinely start to feel as light as a feather and on cloud 9! Brain fog tends to fade and you can have so much more clarity and energy. Your taste buds start to change too! So you don't crave the same things that you might have done before, it's like pressing reset. Doing an organic juice fast can be a great way to start off a healthy eating regime as you will often only want to put healthy foods back in your body. It's like after getting  your car cleaned - you wouldn't want to then throw loads of rubbish and mud all inside it would you?!"_ No we wouldn't!!

We can't help but think that this is the perfect time to apply the same concept to our homes, ridding our interiors of the toxins which have stayed in our lives out of either lack of inspiration or familiarity. Maybe a splash of new colour or a refreshing white wash; a furniture re-jig to breathe new purpose into a room or sometimes just the addition of a throw in a contrasting colour or texture can make an armchair, sofa or bed feel refreshed; new bed linen not only freshens up a look and helps transform a whole room, but will give you that much sought after wonderful "new bed linen" feel, which is one up from our favourite "clean bed linen" feeling at the end of the day; the addition of a floor lamp to give a new glow to a room and different dynamic to a forgotten corner.

This fab room in our showroom was born out of the need for a bit of rejuvenation at The FBC - it would have been very comfortable for us to place these lovely items against a black backdrop for a dramatic look or a white wall for a monochromatic vibe, instead, we decided to shake things up a bit, look into what trends we loved and then, paint! We love the way the pop of colour helps the gold colours really standout and at the same time compliments the monochromatic accessories. Adding a touch of greenery with a living plant will not only help with cleaning your rooms air, but it will add that freshness we all need at this time of year.

For more on 42Juice head over to their beautiful website HERE, or pop into one of their stunning juice bars (full of interiors inspiration as well as healthy goodness) & receive 10% off cleanse packages throughout January with code CLEAN16.. let us know how you get on!

question: What is the general principle of a juice detox, and how is it done best?

answer: The idea is to drink only fruit juice for a few days. Coral recommends giving up dietary items that could cause withdrawal symptoms such as coffee and meat. After the first three days, the body adapts and starts to feel light as a feather. Coral also says that after a detox, the taste buds change in such a way to prevent people from putting unhealthy foods into their bodies. One critical aspect in doing a juice detox is to avoid social gatherings during the detox days to reduce temptation as well as emptying the fridge for the same reason.

question: What does the article say about how a juice detox fits into general dieting?


text:
Ivor Callely’s political career had ground to a halt long before his conviction in Dublin Circuit Criminal Court.

But his guilty plea on charges relating to submitting false claims for mobile phone expenses was a reminder of why this particular political career was always going to end in failure.

Ivor Callely was always an anomaly in the world of politics. Though a member of Fianna Fáil for over 30 years, there was a sense that the only cause to which he gave blind and unquestioning loyalty was the advancement of Ivor Callely.

His image was a 1980s take on the mohair suit brigade of the 1960s - loud pin-stripe suits and carefully groomed hair provided his trademark look. There were the other trappings including a large house, a Range Rover, a motorboat and the palatial holiday home in West Cork.

His nickname was ‘Ivor the Driver’. It was a testament to his ambition and ego but also his energy. He was a relentless worker and, in fairness to him, annexed Clontarf for Fianna Fáil when he was at his height (it was never a traditional vote-getting area for the party).

But throughout his political career, he never gave a sense of having a point of view or a set of values – other than a general pro-business outlook. His most outspoken comments were vitriolic (and ignorant) remarks about asylum seekers in the late 1990s as well as a slightly bizarre defence of Dublin taxi drivers fighting regulation in the industry.

In an RTÉ interview in the autumn of 2005 he declared he wanted to be Taoiseach. But his ambition and ego was never accompanied by depth of thinking or any self-understanding. In truth, Callely’s great political project was Ivor Callely. Along the way, he cut corners, alienated party colleagues, muscled in on initiatives, and continued to break rules to attain his goals.

Callely was born in Dublin in 1958 and educated in St Paul’s in Raheny and Fairview College. He graduated with a diploma in business studies and worked as a representative for a pharmaceutical company. His political breakthrough came in 1985 when he was elected to Dublin City Council. Around that time he candidly, and refreshingly, described himself in non Fianna Fáil terms as a “young sexually active person.”

He made his Dáil breakthrough in 1989 when Fianna Fáil won three seats out of four in the constituency. It was an impressive performance as the then Taoiseach Charles Haughey was the dominant personality and Callely’s success was a direct challenge to the Haughey regime. There is a long-standing enmity since then between him and the Haughey.s.

His graft was legendary. He devoted Michael Ring-like levels of energy to his work. He also had an eye for the gimmick. He has a caravan that he has hauled around the constituency with a day-glo tangerine VW Beetle. ‘Ivor Callely is here to meet you’ read its livery.

His energy marked him out early as a ministerial prospect. But it is clear from the time he did not recognise boundaries between his political life and his personal interests. Controversies inevitably cropped up. His wife Jennifer won the franchise to run the hairdressing salon in the new Beaumont Hospital in 1987 at a time when Callely was chair of the Eastern Health Board. At the time too there were questions about Callely’s’s involvement with a company called Eurokabin, which collapsed in 1992 with debts of £7 million.

His fundraising events were also raising eyebrows. He organised golf classics and an annual dinner in the Dáil for supporters. In 2005, the €70,000 he raised at a golf classic in the K Club half of all donations declared that year by the 166 TDs in the Dáil.

He waited 13 years for promotion. Taoiseach Bertie Ahern made him a junior minister in 2002, initially with responsibility for the elderly in the Department of Health. His record was poor. Paul Murray of Age Action Ireland said of him at the time. “We never found him to be totally engaged or to understand fully the issues. He was difficult to deal with.”

Callely was no slouch on the publicity front. In his first ministry in Health, he accounted for twice as much of the photographic budget as the senior minister Micheál Martin. Later, in Transport, he got referred to the Standards in Public Office Commission for putting a prominent image of himself on Operation Freeflow billboards.

According to a former Fianna Fáil handler, he was obsessed with publicity to the point of comedy.

There was a high attrition rate of staff in his office. During four years as a junior minister, six of his staff transferred or quit. According to those who worked with him, he had Napoleonic tendencies and was unreasonably demanding. He also started to encroach on the territory of senior ministers. Martin Cullen had to pin his ears back for solo runs on matters that were Cullen’s’s responsibility.

The end of his ministerial career in December 2005 was comical. His first difficulty was when two of his staff resigned because of difficulties with his style. When it came to light that he offered to buy his personal assistant a car to stay in the job, an annoyed Bertie Ahern told him that he was on his last chance. Within days, a new controversy broke. A major construction company, John Paul, arranged for Callely’s home in Clontarf to be painted for free in the early 1990s. The writing was on the wall.

It descended into farce. Ahern tried to force his resignation but could not locate Callely. The Budget of that year was eclipsed by the affair. The next morning, a very annoyed finance minister Brian Cowen’s was left kicking his heels for half an hour waiting for his post-Budget interview with Pat Kenny on RTÉ to begin.

The reason for the delay? Callely was giving a rambling defence of himself on air. The interview was long on self-justification and victimhood and short on humility.

His career plummeted after that. He was reportedly inconsolable after losing his Dáil seat in 2007. He misery was compounded by failure to win election to the Seanad. Many were surprised to see him named as one of Bertie Ahern’s eleven nominations to the Upper House.

Callely’s work rate in the constituency fell dramatically after 2007. Those who know him said that the double-blow of losing his ministry and his Dáil seat badly affected him. On a huge health kick, he exercises daily and has lost a lot of weight. He hit the headlines briefly in the summer of 2009 when two boat owners in West Cork said his motor cruiser struck their boats while berthing, causing €40,000 worth of damage.

Later, it emerged that he had been claiming travelling expenses from his holiday home in West Cork to Leinster House to attend the Seanad. The caused a furore in the media and among his colleagues, who argued that his habitual resident should have been Clontarf.

A Seanad Committee censured him and suspended him for 20 days. However, Callely challenged the decision in the High Court and it ruled that the Committee had acted outside the powers of the relevant act, had made a “political judgement” and had thereby breached Mr Callely’s right to natural justice and fair procedures.

At the time it seemed like a victory for the former TD and senator. However, it was relatively short-lived.

_• A section of this profile first appeared in The Irish Times in June 2010._

question: Who is Ivor Callely?

answer: A politician whose career came to a halt before pleading guilty to submitting false claims.

question: What was Ivor Callely's nickname?

answer: "Ivor the driver" because of his ambition and ego.

question: When was Ivor's political breakthrough?

answer: in 1985 when he was elected to Dublin City Council

question: Where was Callely educated?

answer: In St Paul's in Raheny and Fairview College.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: Ivor Callely pleads guilty on charges relating to submitting false claims for mobile phone expenses. However, his political career had come to a halt long before his conviction in the Dublin Circuit Criminal Court.


text:
MARIONETTE was a Swedish melodic death metal band. They hail from Gothenburg, Sweden, formed in 2005. The band achieved recognition from placing high, and often winning, many national and international music contests. Inspired by the Japanese visual-kei scene and the brutality of Swedish hardcore and metal, Marionette has brought new light to the metal genre.

Career

When founded in 2005, when the average member's age was 16, Marionette quickly made a name for themselves in the Swedish metal scene by winning and placing high in many national and international music contests. In support of the EP, _Terror Hearts_ - which was mixed and mastered by Fredrick Nordström (In Flames, At the Gates) – Marionette shared the stage with some of the world's most renowned metal acts including: Machine Head, Slayer, Mastodon, Meshuggah, and Candlemass among others.[1]

In January 2008, Marionette recorded its debut album, _Spite_, with a series of up-and-coming as well as established producers in Swedish music: including Simon Exner (As You Drown), and two time Swedish Grammy winner Åke Parmerud. _Spite_ was mixed and mastered by Christian Silver (Sonic Syndicate). Mixing elegance, darkness, power, aggression, and speed, _Spite_, hit the metal scene with the power of an atomic bomb in April 2008, receiving raving reviews from mainstream and underground publications around Europe. The album was released across North America in September of the same year via France's Listenable Records.[2]

Marionette made its debut European tour in October 2008 following an exclusive showcase at PopKomm in Berlin, augmenting the band's growing prominence in the European metal scene. Marionette then hit the road with Die Apokalyptischen Reiter for the month long, critically acclaimed, Reiterfestspiele 2008 tour.[3] On the back of popular support from the band's growing UK fan base and acclaim from _Metal Hammer_ and _Kerrang!_ magazines, Marionette did a short headline tour in the UK in January 2009.[4] Marionette then joined the Deathstars and Sonic Syndicate for the Scandinavian dates of the Death Syndicate European Tour in February and March 2009.[5] In April 2009 Marionette was invited to join the Deathstars on the UK leg of its Night Electric Night Tour.[6] Following the aforementioned tour Marionette began writing material for its second full-length album _Enemies_.

In keeping with the approach established for _Spite_, Marionette assembled a production team for _Enemies_ which included Pontus Hjelm (Dead by April) and two-time Swedish Grammy award-winning producer Åke Parmerud. Fredrik Nordström (In Flames, At the Gates, Bring Me the Horizon) and Peter In De Betou (Dimmu Borgir, Meshuggah) handled mixing and mastering duties respectively.[7] “Enemies” was born to critical acclaim upon its European release in late 2009 and early 2010 in North America and Japan. Special recognition was given to the band's aggressive sound, “stylistic depth”, “technical cohesion”, and an intrinsic ability to walk the line between relentless heaviness and commercial appeal (_Kerrang!_ magazine).[8] Heavy touring followed including Scandinavian dates with Five Finger Death Punch and Shadows Fall in November 2009 and European and UK tour with Blessthefall. “Enemies” was nominated for a Swedish Metal Award in the category of “Best Death Metal Album” of 2009.[9]

In July 2010, Marionette entered Studio Fredman with producer Fredrik Nordström to begin recording the band's as yet unnamed third album, the first to feature new vocalist Alexander Andersson who replaced vocalist Axel Widén (ZombieKrig) in spring of the same year.[10] The band took a brief break from recording in fall 2010 to perform on its headlining The SlaughTour 2010 of the UK and Denmark and to support fellow Gothenburgers Dark Tranquillity for the final Scandinavian dates of its Where Death Is Most Alive Part II Tour.[11] In November 2010 Marionette signed a worldwide publishing deal with Warner Chappell Music, only the third metal band to have signed by the company's Swedish branch (the other two being Meshuggah and Sabaton).[12] In January 2010 Marionette toured Europe as direct support for the Murderdolls.[13] In February 2011 Marionette completed the mix of its third album at PH Studio in Gothenburg with Pontus Hjelm, who the band had worked with previously on the _Enemies_ album.

In May 2011, Marionette announced they would tour Europe and the UK on “The SlaughTour 2011” with Swedish pop-metallers Dead By April. “The SlaughTour 2011” covered Denmark, Netherlands, Germany, Austria, France, and the UK in October and November 2011.

Members

  Name                  Instrument        Membership
  --------------------- ----------------- ------------
  Alexander Andersson   Vocals            2010–2017
  Mikael Medin          Bass guitar       2005–2017
  Anton Modig           Guitar            2008–2017
  Aron Parmerud         Guitar, vocals    2005–2017
  Linus Johansson       Keyboard          2005–2017
  Jimmie Olausson       Drums             2005–2017
  Johan Sporre          Guitar & Vocals   2005–2008
  Axel Widén            Vocals            2005–2010

Discography

Studio albums

-   ''Spite (2008)
-   ''Enemies (2009)
-   ''Nerve (2011)
-   ''Propaganda (2016)

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4] _Kerrang!_ magazine Issue 1246, Lives pp. 18–19, Jan 31, 2009 and _Metal Hammer_ Issue 8 of 2008, pp. 71–73

[5]

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[7]

[8] _Kerrang!_, October 2009 Issue

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[13] 1

title: Marionette (band)

question: Who are Marionette?

answer: A Swedish melodic death metal band.

question: Where are Marionette from?

answer: Gothenburg, Sweden.

question: When did Marionette form?

answer: 2005.

question: What was Marionette inspired by?

answer: Japanese visual-kei scene and the brutality of Swedish hardcore and metal.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: This article is about Marionette, a Swedish melodic death metal band.


text:
Irina Oren (Wilcox…Oren-Wilcox?) glows, inside and out. Having just arrived for her own wedding reception (my wedding, she kept saying to herself, with increasing hysteria), she kisses Michael enthusiastically on both cheeks and the lips and, apologizing profusely to everyone, rushes to the ladies' room to get her first elated look at herself as a married woman.

The restroom is way too big, way too lavender, and way too plush for a restroom. The mirror is floor-length and takes up the entire wall beside the prissy row of sinks. Her eyes flit around her own reflection. Flushed cheeks – check. Lace and little flowers – check. Golden band on fourth finger of the left hand – check. She practices flashing her wedding smile. White teeth – check. Perfect posture – check. Empty eyes – check. Fuck. There it is again. That politician's wife smile. That ugly disappointment and plastic happiness.

She doesn't understand it. Her joy had felt so alive in that moment, so genuine, and yet the mirror has transformed it into something material, hollowed it out, distanced it from her. It has been this way a lot lately. And she had been so sure that her decision to marry, to make the fundamental assertion of her love, would be the thing that finally allowed her to look in the mirror and see happiness.

She does love Michael. So much. It felt so incredibly real just now; she knows she can make it real. But the mirror, in its bizarre and all too familiar fashion, has drained her luminosity, and now she feels herself wilting.

She can't go back out again until she has rekindled the glow. It is a different world out there (more like a different dimension to this version of her). She knows she cannot survive out there (physically or mentally) without her glow. She can't deal with the mindless conversations about work, weather, houses and potential children. Or the inevitable badgering from Michael’s parents about whether she plans to convert now that she has had a Christian marriage (and she has certainly heard more than enough from her own parents on the issue). She is itching for a cigarette. (Michael will wonder where she is, but serves him right for starting her on smoking.)

She creeps out of the bathroom like a guilty dog, metaphoric tail between legs, glancing about for a low-key exit. That is when she spots the boy, sitting several yards away at the corner table in the very back, even while everyone else has congregated outside. There is a girl with him, too, but it is the boy that draws her closer.

She does not know who he is (perhaps a relative of Michael's?), but she does know that she does not want him here. Not now. In plaid and denim, he certainly is not dressed appropriately, but it is more than that. It is the sudden waves of emotion (an aurora borealis of emotion) that strike her with his appearance. Anger sadness desperation love…romantic love, too, everything she longs to feel for Michael (I want to climb windmills with you). She is repulsed. That boy can't be more than seventeen.

She can't help but move closer. Detached from her will entirely now, she drifts toward the boy until she can hear his voice (poetic voice, dreamer's voice) whispering softly (gently, lovingly) to the girl. Soon she is standing less than a foot from the table where the young couple sit face-to-face. They take no notice of her (or they ignore her). The boy is far too caught up in his words, and the girl is far too caught up in his eyes.

She recognizes the girl now as her sister's daughter, Vera, a shy and frumpy adolescent who had holed herself up in the guest room with a book and barely said two words to anybody when her family visited Irina and Michael in Jersey two years ago. Olive-skinned, with long dark curls and thick glasses, Vera has always reminded Irina a bit of her own awkward adolescent self (pre-contacts-and-nose job, of course). Moody, insecure, and nerdy to a fault. But tonight Vera is glowing.

By now Irina has drawn close enough that she can hear every word the boy says.

"Please don't hide your face from me anymore. Let the world share your light. You are beautiful. You are a goddess. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to scale mountains with you! I want to climb windmills with you!"

Vera's face flushes like a sunrise. She stares into his eyes and stutters aimlessly. He continues to recite to her.

"Please never think you have to change for me and never change. I couldn't love you any other way. Don't ever let anyone force you to be different from you or different for you or different for them or the same as them."

Irina feels a firestorm rising up inside her. How dare this boy love Vera! How dare the both of them ignore her as she stood there!

"…and I can't even begin to describe the feelings you bring me. An aurora borealis of feelings!"

Vera suddenly bursts into tears. "I'm sorry, I have to go. No one has ever said anything like that to me. I don't know what to do. I don't even know who you are! I don't believe you."

She gets up, kisses him on the cheek, and brushes past Irina with tears on her face. The boy stares straight ahead. Without thinking, Irina slides into Vera's empty seat, her white dress bunching around her legs. From this new point in space, she stare right down the endless tunnels of the boy's dark eyes.

"But I love you. You have to believe me, Irina."

Her mouth drops open. She feels her throat constrict and her eyes sting. With his invocation of her name, understanding burns around the edges of her mind and memory becomes an obscure figure in the distance. Each word she has heard him speak tonight echoes inside her being, and she suddenly knows she has heard them before, hundreds of feet up amid a desert sunrise thousands of miles away. He reaches out to her and she takes his hand.

"Jonathan Luo." She says the name before she thinks it.

"I love you, Irina."

"You can't be here Jonathan. You're not allowed."

"I'm here, Irina. Don't forget me. I love you."

Irina closes her eyes, but she can still see him in the darkness. "You love Vera now."

"No. I love her likeness to you. After you pushed me away, I came looking for you, Irina, but all I could find was her. Vera is very much like you. And you are so different from you." The words are no longer spoken to her, but rise from deep within her.

"You don't understand Jonathan, I needed to forget about you…so I could be happy," She is sobbing now. "You're gone now. Jonathan Luo died on August 13, 1997…at St. Lucy's Hospital in Mojave, California…at 10:43 am from leukemia...his body…rejected…there was nothing else they could do."

She remembers now. The last time he had spoken those words to her had been 286 feet up atop the Titania wind turbine, on the day he learned he was sick. But he hadn't told her that.

"Yes, Irina. I'm gone, but you can still live. Don't forget to live."

"Yes, Jonathan."

And with those words, she accepts him. She feels him bleeding back into her, through every pore of her skin and fiber of her mind, a memory once deserted by her cowardice finally returning home. She sits one moment in silence and in the next she rises, walking away with a vigorous determination. Past the plush bathroom, past the guests and tables, past Vera glowing on the dance floor. Suddenly, out of nowhere, someone grabs her elbow and pulls her in. She finds herself facing Michael. His face is sweaty, flustered.

"Where have you been?"

She stares into his blue eyes, and finds she can only get so many layers deep. She dives anyway.

"I want to climb windmills with you, Michael."

He laughs, and disappointment spreads in her stomach before the words have finished leaving his mouth. "All right, sweetheart. It sounds like someone has had a bit too much to drink already."

She is suddenly gripped by the sickening, magnificent, and irresistible urge to tear herself away from him and run, run, run under blue skies.

title: A Misplaced Memory

question: Was Irina truly happy she was married to Michael on her wedding day?

answer: It can be implied from the text that even though she loved Michael very much, she may not be truly satisfied with being married to him.

question: Why did Irina feel like the mirror wasn't showing her the real reflection of her feelings?

answer: Because she noticed that lately, when she smiled, it appeared ungenuine.

question: What was Irina's relationship with Jonathan?

answer: It appears they were lovers until his death.

question: Why were Michael's family and Irina's insistent on her religious beliefs?

answer: That information is not known.

question: When did Irina start smoking?

answer: It is not stated.

question: Why did Irina creep out of the bathroom, and where was she headed?

answer: She wanted to grab a smoke, and she wanted to find a low-key exit.

question: When did Irina realize the seventeen-year-old boy talking to Vera was Jonathan?

answer: She found the conversation very familiar, and when she sat in front of him after Vera left his presence, he told her that he loved her. This, however, was a figment of her imagination since Jonathan was dead.

question: "…An aurora borealis of feelings!" What does this phrase mean in the text?

answer: It might be implied that it means an indescribable feeling.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: Irina was excited to be married to Michael on her wedding day; however, as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, it appeared as though her happiness was not genuine. Irina began to think about the pressures from Michael's family regarding her decision to convert now that they'd had a Christian wedding. To ease the tension in her mind, she crept out of the bathroom for a cigarette when she encountered Jonathan's ghost, her ex-lover who died of leukemia in 1997. His words resounded in her mind, and she remembered their relationship. As she returned to the wedding party, she hoped she could relive that memory with Michael but rather felt disappointed.


text:
Just below my bedroom window was a bush. In that bush lived a bird I called Jerry. When I would spend time in my yard cleaning things up and trimming things, Jerry would sit atop the bush monitoring my duties. When I would sit on the deck with my friends, Jerry would sit atop his bush watching our every movement.

One Saturday afternoon, I was trimming hedges and when I got to Jerry’s bush, he flew up into a nearby tree and watched intently, making sure I properly remodeled his home. After I was done, he returned to his home and sang a wonderful song of happiness. I put out some high quality seed for him to munch on and a fresh bowl of water for him to bathe in. Jerry was the most cared for wild bird on the planet, at least in my mind. He was like a beloved pet to me, even if I never got to hold him or touch him. I showed him my affection the only way I could, by giving him a nice home and the essentials for life. He showed his appreciation by singing me songs while perched atop his home that was the bush under my bedroom window.

Sunday morning, Jerry woke me up with a beautiful bird song. I greeted him from my window, to which he paused, let out a soft chirp, and continued on with his song. I went on with my daily activities after briefly checking on Jerry’s food and water supplies. I returned home from some errands and invited over a couple friends. As we were sitting on the deck discussing worldly affairs and enjoying some drinks, Jerry popped out of his bush and took perch atop his home. Karen noticed him immediately. “That’s a pretty bird. I wonder what kind it is.” I explained that I had spent hours trying to figure out what kind of bird Jerry was…”Jerry?”

Yes. Jerry. I had grown quite fond of him as he seemed to also be fond of me. So, I named him Jerry. One day, when I was in my yard taking care of my garden, I didn’t see Jerry in his usual spot. I called out for him, by name, and within seconds, he was perched atop his home. He had grown so used to my voice saying his name that he came on command. “That’s kind of silly.” Karen didn’t seem to understand the bond that Jerry and I had. I gave him a home and he gave me beauty. “That’s cute.”

My other friend, Carl, wasn’t as perceptive to all this as Karen. He said things like, “That’s gay,” and, “Fucking weird.” I told him if he didn’t like it, then he didn’t have to listen or talk about it. Jerry wasn’t like my other friends. He didn’t express feelings of prejudice, and didn’t say things that were hurtful. He only showed magnificent beauty and appreciation for my affections.

I truly believe Jerry could sense the emotions that were being radiated from the deck that night. Carl’s uncaring bigotry. My disappointment. Karen’s mild sarcasm. All of those things lent to the events that followed.

Carl stood up and started walking towards Jerry. I strongly suggested that he sit back down, but he continued. “Carl, just leave the bird alone and let Shawn have his little fantasy.” Carl, unwavering in his decision, stepped up to the bush, tried to snatch Jerry from the top of his home, and sent Jerry flying in a maniacal fashion. I jumped up and ran over, just as Jerry made a shoddy landing in the nearby tree. I snapped at Carl, telling him to leave my house. His merciless presence was no longer appreciated in my vicinity. Carl mumbled some things under his breath as he walked around the side of my house to get into his car.

“That was…interesting.” Karen exhibited compassion towards the situation, but still didn’t seem to be entirely sincere. “Poor little thing looked pretty flustered.” I tried calling Jerry back down to his home, but he remained firm in his position, perched on a high branch of the neighboring tree. I presumed he needed some time to compose himself and evaluate the situation before regaining his trust and returning to his perch atop the bush.

It wasn’t until after Karen left and it was clear I was the only soul left in the yard that Jerry timidly made his way back to his perch atop his home that was the bush below my bedroom window. I graciously welcomed Jerry home with some fresh seed and a clean bowl of water. I greeted him and he respectfully chirped in reply. Jerry was always polite and well mannered, not like the people whom I thought were my friends.

Jerry was a true friend, which made it all the more difficult when I found him lying under the bush the next morning. I had awakened to silence, which was puzzling, as Jerry had been my alarm clock for months prior. Fearing that Jerry had become disillusioned by the previous day’s commotions and decided to find a new friend, I went to his home that was the bush below my bedroom window. Seeing him lying there motionless, I said his name in a voice that was dreadfully quavering, only to find my call unrequited.

I slowly reached in and cautiously scooped Jerry into my warm hands. He let out a painstakingly soft chirp, which I knew was probably his final word. I told him it was okay; that he didn’t need to say anything. As a single tear ran down my cheek, I told him that I truly appreciated all the beauty and warmth he brought into my life, and that I would never forget him. As he lay, cradled in my hands, I watched, sitting on the dewy grass next to his home that was the bush below my bedroom window. I watched as he let out one breath…two breaths…three breaths…and then he was at rest.

I placed Jerry’s delicate body into the hole I dug for him under his favorite perch and gently covered him with the soft soil that had long ago sprouted his home that was the bush below my bedroom window. I whispered, “Farewell, my friend,” as I smoothed over his new home and made sure it was packed down tightly.

Monday morning I was awakened by a beautiful bird song, one not unlike the one Jerry would sing to me. I excitedly jumped out of bed and ran to the window, hoping to see Jerry sitting atop his home that was the bush below my bedroom window. As I peered out the window, only to find that there was no bird in sight, I realized that the song could not have come from Jerry, as I myself had watched him breathe his final breath. I myself had placed him into the ground and covered him. Where was the singing coming from?

I turned to walk to my bed and as I was sitting down to ponder the mysteriously celestial bird song, I know I saw Jerry fly from his perch and off into the sunrise. Jerry made an appearance one last time, if only for my own comfort, to sing me a song, and to bid farewell to his home that was the bush below my bedroom window.

title: The Bird and the Bush

question: What does the bush signify in this story?

answer: The bush signifies a home for the bird, Jerry, in this story. The bush is also a cherished item by the narrator who trims and cleans up the bush. The bush is the spot that lead the narrator to meet Jerry and grow a beautiful relationship with Jerry. Most importantly, the bush was a home and resting ground for Jerry.

question: Describe the narrator and Jerry's relationship.

answer: Throughout the story, it can be seen how the narrator has a soft spot for Jerry and Jerry also likes the narrator. They have built a routine, where Jerry sings his morning song to which the narrator wakes up to and the narrator tends to the bush which is Jerry's home. When Jerry does not show up one day, the narrator worries, which further proves how much affection the narrator has towards Jerry.

question: Will the narrator become friends with another bird that chooses to perch on the bush in which Jerry once resided?


text:
The Leaking Pipe

That bloody pipe had leaked again.

Amanda set down her basket of laundry and looked up at the perpetrator. It had to be one of two pipes which ran parallel across the ceiling of the garage, directly above this morning’s pool of water. Similar pools had been appearing in the same spot for several days now, and Amanda had had quite enough. Leaking pipes were an inconvenience the Harrison household could do without right now.

She had wanted to mention the problem to Neil, but these days he returned home from work so sad, that she had thought better of it. He had more important things to worry about than a splatter of water on the garage floor. So Amanda had set about solving the problem herself. The night before, when Neil had retired to bed, Amanda had taken several wads of cotton wool and taped them to the pipes’ joints. This simple test would determine the precise location of the leak.

But the wads of cotton wool were all dry.

Amanda prodded them all again, but they were still fluffy - they were all exactly as she had left them last night, and yet, the leak had negated the test and found its way to the water deposit on the floor. How strange.

She continued to the washing machine, an old thing located on the far side of the garage, and spared the leaking plumbing no further thought as her husband had himself got up and left for work.
The garage was built into the house, and had not been used to store a car in some time. The metal garage-door, painted a pale blue from the outside, hadn’t been opened in years, meaning the only entrance in constant use was the door at the back, which led to the rest of the house via a hallway at the base of the home’s staircase. Amanda only used the garage for the washing machine, which was a task performed each morning after her husband had departed for work.

It wasn’t until mid-morning, when the washing machine stopped churning, that Amanda pondered what to do next with her problem. Calling in a professional would be expensive, and she’d never shield the costs from Neil. He’d ask why she hadn’t just told him. There was Brian next door. A builder by trade but surely he would tighten a loose joint for them? She wondered if he was on a job this morning. It had to be worth a phone call.

“Thanks for coming over, Brian.”

“No problem, Love, sounds like a fairly routine job,”

Brian didn’t take off his shoes. The garage door to the driveway hadn’t been opened in such a long time but Amanda wondered if she should have made an exception as Brian trudged his muddy work boots through the living room. Such a house-proud lady, Amanda had quickly tidied the front rooms when Brian had agreed to come over, but it was only when they approached the hall at the foot of the stairs and laid her hand on the door to the garage that she realised what a tip it was.

“I must warn you, Brian, we’re due a bit of a clear-out in here.”

What was she saying? She’d been to her neighbours a couple of times and he wasn’t the tidiest of people - far from it. What would he care really? But she still winced as the door opened and the stack of boxes filled of items without an otherwise home came into view.

“These ones here?” he said. She nodded and he ran his hand along the lengths of both pipes.
How had she let the garage get this messy? There were boxes of old clothes she could take to Oxfam, Neil’s tools she’d seen him use once, and that dog basket… they could get rid of that now as well. It had belonged to a beautiful Alsatian.

“You say it leaks through the night, Amanda?”

“Most nights, yes.”

“It’s this pipe on the left here which runs water from the boiler to upstairs, the one next to it is for gas. You have a boiler upstairs don’t you?”

“I think so.”

“You do. Every time you draw a lot of water upstairs water runs through this pipe from the main tank over there. The reason it appears at night must be down to your own routine. Do you run a bath every night or something like that?”

“Sometimes.”

Amanda thought hard. Last night, when she’d put the cotton wool on the pipes, the floor was dry. Had she brushed her teeth before or after setting up the test? Yes, it was definitely before, she brushed hers then went whilst Neil was flossing. She used the downstairs bathroom this morning while the kettle was boiling. Perhaps Neil had used the bathroom during the night? She thought she would have heard him but then again that medication had made her such a deep sleeper. And all that still didn’t explain why the cotton wool was dry.

“It might not be leaking from the obvious joints, which is why your experiment didn’t work. Sometimes a leak can run along the pipes and drip down a few metres away from the hole. Though I must admit, you can normally tell straight away.”

“What about the heating, Brian? If we hadn’t used any water in the bathroom could the heating coming on this morning have caused it?”

Brian laughed, as if he found Amanda’s lack of central heating knowledge highly amusing. “The heating runs on a closed system separate to your upstairs water. You wouldn’t want that mucky stuff coming out of your taps let me tell you that.”

“Brian. I am sure we didn’t use any water last night after I’d checked the garage. But this morning there was a puddle on the floor.”

“Well, Amanda, if that’s true I can say with certainty that your puddle isn’t coming from these pipes.”

Drip! Drip! Drip!

Amanda dreamt of leaking pipes and puddles that night.

It was the sort of awake where a person was very tired, but knew they wouldn’t get back to sleep for hours. She shouldn’t have had that coffee so late last night. That was stupid.

She turned to cuddle her husband, but her hands only hit cold pillow.

He was probably in the bathroom. Amanda needed a glass of water. She reached for the light, and then for her slippers and robe. Her soles flopped along the carpet, the slippers were tatty. She supposed that slippers would last a while longer now that there was no dog in the house.

When she reached the landing, she noticed that the bathroom light was off, and the first inkling that something was wrong. Where was Neil?

At the bottom of the stairs, the crack around the sides of the garage door revealed that it was on. She grabbed the handle, wondering what the hell was going on.

And there she found Neil, clasping something in his trembling hands. It was a box, printed with a floral pattern. She could just about read the words printed in gold on top: Our loving pet, rest in peace, Cassy. She knelt next to her husband, underneath a pair of copper pipes, and cradled his head upon her chest as he sobbed.

title: [MF] This is a short story I wrote about a housewife who cannot work out why a pipe keeps leaking. Please read and critique.

question: What does the story say about the type of relationship Amanda and Neil have?

answer: Amanda wants to mention the leaking pipes to Neil but doesn't because he returns from work so sad and she feels he has more important things to worry about. Amanda is concerned about calling in a professional, as she would have difficulty shielding the costs from Neil and he'd ask why she hadn't just told him. She turns to cuddle her husband in the night. When she finds him crying over their deceased pet, she knees next to him and cradles his head.

question: Summarize the possible causes for the leak Amanda considers.

answer: She at first thinks the dripping is caused due to leaking pipes. She considers that it may be due to Neil using the bathroom during the night. She also wonders if the heating coming on could have caused the leak.

question: What does the story say about Amanda and Neil's pet?

answer: They had a dog, a beautiful Alsatian named Cassy. It is implied that the dog died. Amanda finds Neil crying over the dog's ashes.

question: What does the story say about how to fix a leaking pipe?


text: I've seen you once before, in a dream from very long ago. We stared at one another from across the way, our hearts attempting to match the beat of one another's, the rhythmic sounds growing so loudly you blushed slightly at the thought of another hearing its merriment, while mine sung a tune loud enough for yours, and only yours to hear. As we walked closer to one another the beating I heard grew from a faint whisper to a warming melody, and as we continued walking along this bridge surrounded by the cherry blossoms that slowly fell in between and all around us, my heart began pounding on the walls of it's calloused prison. Foregoing it's fear that another would never hear it's lovely song, and it would wither and die in a lonely silence. But now, as I walked closer to you and you to I, it sung the happiest of song's as it could finally hear yours. One that the wind would carry for eternity, and the river below would remember until it has gone. For two hearts separate singing together in almost unity, is something even the wind & water has only heard a handful of times. My heart seemed as though it would burst as we finally met one another on that bridge, I looked into your eyes and you into mine, and as you raised your hand I too raised mine, our hands becoming intertwined as our hearts finally resonated the others songs, but in the blink of an eye, we had became decrepit weak and old, when it seems as if just a moment ago, we were young and full of vigor. But I noticed quickly that hadn't stopped our hearts from the melodies they had sung through out our sudden ageing, and I stayed with you as my heart commanded, through the rain and snow, we stood their. Until one day, when the darkness came. And it ripped you from my hands without mercy, the last image I saw of you was a smile, the same smile that you graced me with when our hearts first found one another. But the sudden absence of the song my heart completed caused it to become silent and wither back into its cage, as I too sat on the bridge watching the place where she had stood, secretly hoping it was a bad joke, but the absence of her song told me the truth. She was gone, and now my hearts sings a tune of sadness, as the first snowflake fell upon the slightly frozen river below. As I looked into the sky past the white branches that blocked my view ever so slightly, my heart hit a particularly saddening note before its song stopped and a tear fell onto my heated cheeks, I raised my hand in surprise to find I had been crying, I looked below to find the river had rose and now flowed faster than before, I also noticed a trickle of blood running down my neck and dampening the shirt I wore. And as I raised my hand to touch the Scarlett liquid a man appeared before me, his hand raised outward a warming smile gracing his pale face, as he spoke it was clear to me, even above the rising waters now destroying everything in its path. He spoke the words my heart died to hear. "She's been waiting long enough, let us go." I cleared my blurry eyes and with the last of my fleeting strength I took his hand just as the water destroyed the bridge which we had met one another on. I feel asleep as my strength failed me, and I fell into darkness, no sound could be heard nor light seen, but then I heard her song, and I awoke to find her staring back at me. Smiling that same bashful smile she wore ever so perfectly when we had first met, as she heard my heart come alive and sing louder and happier then it ever had as it matched hers perfectly. I sat up and I took her hand into mine we shared a kiss more passionate then any before us, and then we layed their, hand in hand as our hearts sang out in perfect unison for all eternity. I turned to her and smiled as I said, I've seen you once before, in a dream from very long ago.

title: A short story I finished out of boredum, I hope you enjoy it.

question: To what does the narrator refer when speaks of the music in their hearts?

answer: The narrator is using metaphorical language to describe how he feels about the girl he meets on the bridge. He has fallen in love with her and she with him and so their hearts sing out to one another. Only the heart of the other can hear that sweet tune.

question: How can they become decrepit and weak in the blink of an eye?

answer: Either this is really a dream or their love for one another made it seem as though the time had flown. Since the narrator talks of changing whether it is quite possible that the two have spent a lifetime together. Now it is the time to part.

question: Why does the man join the narrator on the bridge?

answer: The man has come to take the narrator to his long-lost love. This is probably a metaphor for the narrator's death. The bridge is washed away and the narrator is plunged into darkness. When he awakens he is with his lover.


text:
SARAH SPIEGEL is an American singer and actress who specializes in the Great American Songbook style. She toured for years with the Louis Prima Jr. band, Louis Prima Jr. and the Witnesses, and now performs as a solo artist in concerts and recordings. She has appeared as an actress in television shows such as _NCIS_, _King of Queens_, and _Boston Public_.

Early life

Spiegel was born in Long Branch, New Jersey to Mel and Fran Spiegel. Growing up in Belmar, New Jersey,[1] she studied tap and jazz dancing. She studied acting at the Spring Lake (New Jersey) Theatre Company, where she performed in such plays as _Godspell_, _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, and _Scrooge_.[2] At 14, Spiegel moved with her parents to Jupiter, Florida, where she attended Dreyfoos School of the Arts. As a senior in high school, she was nominated for a foreign language scholarship from the Pathfinder High School Scholarship Awards.[3] Spiegel won a full scholarship to college and awards of excellence in performance competitions in the areas of solo and duet singing and acting.[4] She excelled at music and began singing locally, as well as appearing in plays, commercials, TV shows, and movies produced in Florida.[5] (She had already made her screen debut at 9 in a deleted bit part in Woody Allen's _New York Stories_.)[6]

Career

Spiegel acted on television and appeared solo in various nightclubs in Florida and around the country.[7][8] From 2008, she hosted industrial shows as a General Motors spokesperson with Kyle Gass.[9] In 2009, she joined the Louis Prima Jr. band, Louis Prima Jr. and the Witnesses, and toured America for four years as soloist with the band, appearing in Las Vegas, Manhattan, and Los Angeles stops on the tour, as well as in Italy, including an appearance in Louis Prima's family home town of Palermo, Italy. She left the band in 2013 to pursue a successful solo career.[10][11][12] Since then, she has opened for Frank Sinatra Jr. and Nancy Sinatra and appeared in concert with Jeff Goldblum and Donny Most.[13][14][15]

In November, 2020, Spiegel released a new album of songs from World War II, _As Time Goes By,_ composed of songs from her stage production _Through the Perilous Fight (We Never Stopped Singing)_.[16][17]

Personal life

In 2012, Spiegel's mother Frances died as a result of medical malpractice. Subsequently, Spiegel formed the Fran Spiegel Right to Know organization to promote awareness of medical malpractice.[18]

On June 20, 2019, Spiegel married actor Jim Beaver, with whom she had been romantically involved since 2016.[19]

[1] Staff. “Two Days: Louis Prima Jr., oysters and festivals”, _The Star-Ledger_, September 8, 2012. Accessed December 16, 2017. “Alongside him: the Witnesses, featuring singer Sarah Spiegel, an actress who grew up in Belmar and has appeared on _The King of Queens._”

[2] _Golden Opportunity,_ by Gretchen C. Van Benthuysen. Asbury Park Press, January 7, 2011

[3] Palm Beach Post, May 15, 1994, p. 290

[4] Palm Beach Post, May 26, 1994, p. 3D.

[5] Palm Beach Post, May 26, 1994, p. 3D

[6] _Golden Opportunity,_ by Gretchen C. Van Benthuysen. Asbury Park Press, January 7, 2011

[7] Palm Beach Post, November 25, 1999, p. 19D

[8] Palm Beach Post, December 17, 1999, p. 27

[9] _Golden Opportunity,_ by Gretchen C. Van Benthuysen. Asbury Park Press, January 7, 2011

[10] Courier-Post, October 14, 2010, p. 49.

[11] Courier News, July 14, 2013, p. A4.

[12] Los Angeles Times, March 1, 2015, p. F10

[13] https://losangeles.jazznearyou.com/event_detail.php?id=545980&width=

[14] http://allevents.in/los%20angeles/sarah-spiegel-frank-sinatra-jr-and-nancy-sinatra-will-be-performing-at-catalina-jazz-club-in-hollywo/403253139700108

[15] http://thelosangelesbeat.com/2015/03/donny-most-ushers-march-2015-in-like-a-lion-and-out-too-most-likely-if-it-would-only-just-take-a-cue-off-him/

[16] Los Angeles Life and Style, October 29, 2016 https://losangeleslifeandstyle.com/?cat=836

[17] Hear Now, November 18, 2020. https://sarahspiegel.hearnow.com/

[18] https://www.thefranspiegelrighttoknowact.org/

[19] https://popculture.com/celebrity-couples/2019/06/21/the-ranch-actor-jim-beaver-marries-sarah-spiegel/

title: Sarah Spiegel (singer)

question: Who is Sarah Spiegel?

answer: She is an American singer and actress. She toured with the Louis Prima Jr. Band, Louis Prima Jr. and the Witnesses, and now works as a solo artist. She's made several TV appearances.

question: Where is Spiegel from?

answer: She was born in Long Branch, New Jersey, and grew up in Belmar.

question: When did Spiegel leave the Louis Prima Jr. band to pursue her solo career?

answer: In 2013.

question: What events lead up to Spiegel founding the Right to Know organization?

answer: Her mother, Frances, died as a result of medical malpractice. The organization promotes awareness of medical malpractice.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: Sarah Spiegel is an American singer and actress. She toured with the Louis Prima Jr. band and Louis Prima Jr. and the Witnesses. In 2013, she left the band and began her solo career as a singer and actress. In 2012, her mother died as a result of medical malpractice. In her memory, Spiegel founded the Fran Spiegel Right to Know organization to promote awareness of medical malpractice.


text:
I remember this story,
I remember it well.
It had a devilish intention,
To stay in mind to only dwell.

It happened so fast,
It happened in vain.
It happened at night,
In a vast land we call the plains.

When the sun was almost done,
And forming on the horizon a small crest.
A farmer came out to sit on his porch,
After a long day of work to take his rest.

When his wife came out,
And kissed him on the cheek.
She said to him you work to hard,
Maybe you should rest for a day or week.

You know I can’t said the farmer,
We have to worry about food.
And all bills we have to pay,
Do you want to live in a hood?

 You no I don’t,
Said the woman in such an attitude.
That made the farmer thinks,
Why was she talking this rude?

But the farmer thought nothing of it,
And arose to go to bed.
He walked up the stairs,
And laid down to rest his weary head.

In the middle of the night,
Arose such a clatter.
That the farmer rose,
To see what was the matter.

He rushed to his closet,
And through open the door.
To grab his gun his father gave him,
Who told him it was useful for ever more.

He went down the stairs,
In a manner so gentle.
That made the man think could this be his wife leaving?
Why he was thinking this, she could never leave him, was he mental?

Why did he think this?
 He knew he could not be.
If he thought this it could not be true,
Not one thing is wrong with me.

When he arrived down the stairs,
He saw into the room.
But saw nothing but the furniture,
And some glass beside a broom.

He starts for the kitchen,
Since the lights were still going along.
He turned the corner,
And saw something was wrong.

His wife was in there,
A man had his arms around her shoulders rim.
How could she do this he thought?
 So a fury of anger rose within him.

He dashes in brandishing the gun,
And yells at her I kill you and this man if I can.
So he pulled the trigger,
But nothing came out and killed man.

Then everything happened in a fury,
 The farmer was on the ground after he fell.
The unknown man was now on top of him,
And the farmers head was ringing like a bell.

The farmer fell asleep then,
Not knowing where he was.
He awoke with his hands tied in a dark cold room,
With a lot of commotion coming from the room above that came like a buzz.

He realized he was in his basement,
And could no longer move his arms in any motion.
So he tried to create a noise to be heard,
But could not because of the upstairs commotion.

With that man upstairs with his wife,
And he down here with his hands behind his back.
That man was messing around with his wife,
And all he wanted to do is grab the axes and hack.

His ties came loose,
His hands were free.
He got up and grabbed the axe,
He ran to the door and yelled out you are only me.

He slashed down the axe,
It went down in a whir.
The man now led dead on the cold floor,
So now the farmer started for her.

She exclaimed out to him,
That was your son you just hurt, you are acting crazy.
We put you down there to keep you come till we could surprise you in the mor…
She went down like the man before her and the rest is a little hazy.

When the farmer finally came back to reality,
He was in a strange room.
He stood before a man in black,
Who seemed to be in a gloom?

He said to the farmer in a booming voice,
For what you have committed is so vile I can not think of a punishment to give.
So I give you live in prison,
You will never be a free man as long as you live.

The farmer is now in a strange small room,
A room he could no longer leave as he may.
He said in a sorrowful voice how can I atone myself,
He heard voice behind him say, I can think of a way.

title: a little alliteration i made one boring day

question: What is the farmer's motivation to use the gun his father gave him?

answer: One of the nights he hears a sound coming from downstairs and heads to check what is going on. He takes his gun along and assumes that it may be his wife leaving him but he is afraid wondering why this thought struck him in the first place. He comes down, reaches the kitchen only to find his wife with another man. In fury, the farmer raises the gun and yells that he would kill both of them. He pulls the trigger but nothing happens.

question: What does the story say about the man the farmer wants to kill.

question: What are the effects of the farmer killing the man?

answer: The farmer had no idea that the person he lashes with the axe is none other than his son. The next thing the farmer remembers is standing before a man in black who tells him that he couldn't think of a punishment for the vile crime that he has committed. The man then sentences the farmer to a lifetime in prison.


text:
GUERNSEY ELECTRICITY LIMITED (GE) is the sole commercial electricity supplier on the island of Guernsey. GE has been operating for over 100 years, moving from local generation of power from coal, and later oil, to investing in cables to connect into the grids in Jersey and France through the Channel Islands Electricity Grid.

History

Early electricity uses in Guernsey

In 1887 a dynamo was used to generate street lighting in front of Randalls Brewery in the Avenue, followed in 1897 by a water powered first domestic installation at Le Chalet, Fermain bay.[1]

In 1898 Edmundsons Electricity Corporation was granted the concession to build and operate an electricity supply in Guernsey. of cables would have to be installed below ground within two years. In February 1900 150 kW could be generated from the power station at Les Amballes, St Peter Port.[2]

Prepayment meters had to be provided that would take English or French coins, there being three currencies in operation in Guernsey at that time, £1 Guernsey being equal to 19s British and 10d Guernsey being equal to 1 French franc.[3] Units being sold at 7d for the first unit per day and 4d thereafter.

The quarry industry needed electricity for cranes and in 1902 it was decided to build a second power station at St Sampson’s taking the generating capacity to 870 kW with units supplied rising from 65,000 to 1.75m a year in 1910. A 2,500 volt DC cable connected the two generating centres. A battery storage system was used to provide a 24-hour service meaning the generators only needed to operate four days a week.[4] With 1,000 consumers by 1910, the average price per unit fell to an average of 2½d.

Guernsey Electric Light and Power Company Limited

In 1907 a company was formed, Guernsey Electric Light and Power Company Limited to run the Edmunsons business in Guernsey. Between 1908 and 1911 diesel generators were installed at both power stations, increasing capacity to 1,340 kW. An explosion in November 1918 at the Vale power station left the road covered in debris.[5] The increased price of coal and oil during World War I and the requirement to expand the network resulted in a new law which increased tariffs and allowed overhead lines to be installed in country areas.

-   Connections created to charge electric vehicles – 1914
-   Wind turbine built – 1925 [6]

In 1933 the States of Guernsey cancelled the concession and acquired the business at a cost of £285,500 at which time the capacity was 3.73 MW with 2,928 consumers on of cables with eight substations. It would be supervised by the States Electricity Board.[7]

1934 saw the start of a 50 Hz 230 V AC supply, however some existing consumers took decades to change from DC. In 1938 the last coal-fired generator was retired as new fuel tanks were built to store oil. By 1939 an additional 110 km of mains cables were installed with 17 additional substations built and 6.9m units were sold a year to 5,774 consumers.[8]

Occupation

In June 1940 two thirds of the employees were evacuated to England, leaving 36 volunteer employees to suffer the German occupation. Restrictions were placed on electricity usage, sufficient oil was available to provide reduced power until May 1941. The generation of power from burning waste was tested, with coal burning as a backup system, it helped meet the minimum essential load requirement of 145 kW. Supply fell to 3.4m kW, the main user of power was the German occupiers with most of their power being paid for by the States of Guernsey. Limited supplies of oil arrived on the island and generators were changed to run off town gas. The Organisation Todt (OT) who were constructing defences in the island were required to arrange for the delivery of oil to generate the electricity they needed.[9]

The winter of 1942-3 showed excessive unit usage, which could be demonstrated that 75% of usage was to German-occupied premises with a number of illegal connections. Further restrictions were imposed in October 1943 allowing four units of power per week per house. The OT built a power station to run off anthracite and coal in the Petit Bouet with a 720 kW capacity and using sea water for cooling.[10]

By January 1945 electric power was barely available to process milk or purify and pump water. Coal brought in by the Red Cross of the SS _Vega_ in April allowed coke to be produced from which electricity could be generated for civilian use. Guernsey was liberated on 9 May 1945.

Post War

The immediate aftermath of the war saw repairs necessary in many areas however replacement machinery was hard to obtain.

During the 1950s demand increased rapidly with sales reaching 32.5m units and consumers rising to 14,805. An AC ring main was constructed around the island. Eight new generators were acquired giving a capacity of 12.5MW.[11] DC was replaced with AC when opportunities arose however there were still over 600 DC customers in 1966.

A new generating hall ‘B’ was built. as demand continued to rise and more generators were acquired, including a Stal Laval GT35 gas turbine, taking the total to 24, including 12 Mirrlees KVSS12 and 6 Mirrlees Major’s, providing 54.6MW. By 1970 consumers reached 21,507 with 130.7m units sold. ‘C’ engine hall was constructed in 1979 to house new Sulzer 9RNF68 generators and ‘A’ hall decommissioned. The 1980s saw capacity increase to 72MW in 1984 which was adequate for the maximum demand of 43MW, however demand was still increasing reaching 64.5MW on 8 January 1997,[12] a new Sulzer 9RTA58 generator was housed in the new ‘D’ generating hall and two new Thomassen gas turbines were acquired. The last DC customer was Randalls Brewery which converted their bottling plant to AC in 1987.[13]

In 1998 GE was commercialised as a trading company with assets of £91.5m. Thermal efficiency of generating plant had risen to 43%, system load factor had reached 58% and distribution system losses reduced to 9.5%.[14]

Undersea cables

In the mid 1970s investigations were undertaken to determine the practicality of a cable. Jersey connected to France in 1984 (_EDF1_). No decision was taken until 1996 when it was agreed to connect Guernsey to Jersey (_GJ1_) and lay a second 90 MW cable (_Normandie 2_) from France to Jersey, the work being completed in 2000 at a cost of £50m. The cables contain a 24 fibre optic communications cable.[15]

A second 100MW DC cable (_GJ2_) was planned to be installed in 2016, two years earlier than planned to replace the existing _GJ1_ which was starting to fail, together with another cable (_Normandie 1_) from France to Jersey replacing the old _EDF1_ cable.[16]

GE has invested heavily in the Channel Islands Electricity Grid using debt to finance the investment.[17]

Current

Despite the cable connection to France providing most of the electricity units sold in Guernsey, the power station needs to maintain sufficient capacity to generate power should the cable fail. Eight oil fired diesel engines and three oil fired gas turbines including two new diesel engines, given the names “Trudy”and “Freddy”, costing £15m each which were installed in engine room “D” in March 2017.[18] Environmental and cost considerations require the maximum use of the cable link.[19]

Minimum demand is around 23MW with peak demand in 2010/11 of 85MW. Revenue in 2012/13 was £53m. It is predicted that demand will continue to increase.[20] In 2011/12 82% of electricity was imported using the cable link.[21] Customers now exceed 30,000.

A retail shop is attached to the power station at North Side, Vale.

GE is governed by the _Electricity (Guernsey) Law, 2001 as amended_ and is regulated by the _Channel Islands Competition and Regulatory Authorities_.[22]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

[13]

[14]

[15]

[16]

[17]

[18]

[19]

[20]

[21]

[22]

title: Guernsey Electricity

question: How long has Guernsey Electricity Limited been running?

answer: Guernsey Electricity has been operating for over 100 years.

question: What was the earliest use of electricity in Guernsey?

answer: In 1887, a dynamo was used to generate street lighting in front of Randalls Brewery.

question: Where is Guernsey?

answer: Not answered.

question: What is the minimum demand for power?

answer: The minimum demand for power is 23 megawatts.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: This article details Guernsey Electrcity, the sole commercial electricity supplier on the island of Guernsey. It gives a history of the company as well.


text: People want stories, people want humor, people want to be hit in the feels. However, when someone finally delivers, those who thirst so desperately for something great, shit all over the originality. Much like goal tending, usually done out of spite and anger that the greatness didn't flow from them, instead they are stuck reading greatness that they desperately wish, and swear up and down that they could do it if they wanted. Well, if you can do it, why haven't you. You think about it all the time, you come up with the best ideas, but never write them down. Why is that? Because you think you will remember, but a word to the wise, you will never remember unless you connect that lead or ink tip to a nice blank sheet of lined paper, or a fresh word document for you techfags. It doesn't even matter what you write, as long as you formally use these words that we were granted when we slip out of that waterslide called a vagina. Words, everything and anything can be done or described with the right words. Sure, I can say that I encountered a very dirty public bathroom, and you could take my word for it. Or, I could say: I turned the rusted knob and entered what i presumed was a public restroom bathed in mediocrity cleanliness, but when the automatic light snapped on what i saw, and smelled was horrid. Walls that once used to be white, now yellow stained from people ignoring the no smoking sign, I mean who doesnt want a cigarette when they shit? The toilet hadn't been cleaned in ages, and the water was no longer clear. The sink was backed up with loogies and torn up tissue. And the smell was somewhere between a dead body, and potatoes that had been sitting in the pantry six months too long. Now, would you rather take my word from a simple sentence that this bathroom was disgusting. Or do you prefer feeling my pain as a disgustingly describe my sheer and utter horror first hand?

title: Words

question: - Is this a book about business ideas?

answer: - No, the narrator is talking about writing ideas.

question: - Who is the author talking about?

answer: - People in general.

question: - Describe what the narrator is referring to when they say "They are stuck reading greatness that they desperately wish, and swear up and down that they could do it if they wanted."

answer: - The narrator seems angry with most people who expect a lot from writers but are very critical when something original is written.

question: - Why is the narrator giving advice?

answer: - They are not, they seem to be frustratingly expressing the difficulty of writing a book.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator expresses the difficulty of coming up with the right words to write a good book, considering how most readers are very critical.


text:
NIKOLAI SERGEYEVICH SIDOROV (; born 5 November 1974) is a Russian professional football coach and a former player.

Playing career

He made his debut in the Russian Premier League in 1998 for FC Shinnik Yaroslavl. He played 2 games in the UEFA Intertoto Cup 1998 for FC Shinnik Yaroslavl.

Honours

-   Russian Third League Zone 4 top scorer: 1997 (18 goals).

title: Nikolai Sidorov (footballer)

question: List Nikolai Sidorov's occupations.

answer: Professional football coach, football player

question: What nationality is Nikolai Sidorov?

answer: Russian

question: When did Nikolai Sidorov make his debut?

answer: 1998

question: What team did Nikolai Sidorov play for?

answer: FC Shinnik Yaroslavl

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: Nikolai Sidorov is a Russian football coach. He formerly played in the Russian Premier League for FC Shinnik Yaroslavl.


text:
Shapes in the night.

You know those nights you're deep asleep then suddenly you're not. There's no loud noise or anything, your just wide awake. Something isn't right, you can always tell. Your eyes, wide open, straining in the darkness to see something in the dim light oozing round the edge of the curtains from the street. You're being perfectly still, if someone or something is there you don't want them to know you're awake just yet.
Then you see it, an outline in the darkness, black on black but definitely there. Your heart stops as you freeze.
Don't look away.
It hasn't seen you're awake yet. Just get ready to move, go for the bedside lamp and your swiss army knife on the table.
Don't look away.
You make your move, swinging up and out of bed in one motion, the light is on and you can see, it's just a jacket on the back of the door.

Monsters aren't real.

We've all had those nights. Nights where dream and reality blurs together just enough to scare the shit out of you as your imagination, unbound by the normal constraints of waking life, is allowed to run free. It can take even a few minutes for reality to assert itself and logic to prevail, after all, why would someone be staring in your bedroom window at night?

When I have these nights I try to remind myself that it's my mind playing tricks on me and that there's nothing in the room with me. I roll over, making noises like I'm asleep just in case, but I can't forget it. I need to check. Despite thinking things over it's hard to apply logic to something from an illogical realm of existence. Sure enough, it's a shadow or something making me scared over nothing once more.

Monsters aren't real.

I don't know what causes this in me but it happens once every month or so, it's not a schedule or anything, it just seems to happen from time to time. Most of the time I can't even remember my dreams. I sleep soundly from when I nod off to when I wake.

Tonight, I'm exhausted, it was a long day at work. I was tired from the moment I came home but I'm not great at napping so I don't bother. I either sleep for too long and can't sleep at night or just can't sleep because I'm tired but not sleepy.

I must have drifted off about 1am. It's definitely later now and I'm suddenly awake once again. I can feel my heart racing in my chest and the hair on the back of my neck is on edge. Something isn't right. I'm facing the wall. I can't let whatever it is know I'm awake. I grunt a bit as I roll over, it's dark. I can see the sliver of light from the top of the curtains and I can make out some shapes in blackness of the room. My desk, my wardrobe. There's an outline. Something is definitely there.
Don't look away.
Remember to breath, sleeping people breath. Get ready to go for the light and your knife, it's on the desk.
Don't look away.
I make my move, eyes locked on the shape as I flick the light and grab my knife, the light is on and I can see.

It seems I was wrong.

title: Shapes in the night

question: What wakes the narrator?

answer: He doesn't know what wakes him. One minute he's asleep and then he awakes knowing something isn't right.

question: Why does he pretend that he is asleep?

answer: He doesn't want the imagined intruder to know that he is awake.

question: Why does he grab his Swiss knife?

answer: He feels he needs protection from the intruder.

question: What is the monster?

answer: It is a jacket hanging behind the door.

question: Write a ~9 sentence summary.

answer:
You know the nights when you’re asleep and then suddenly you’re not. You don’t know what has woken you. You don’t move in case something is in your room. You don’t want the intruder to know you are awake.

You see an outline in the darkness. You grab your Swiss knife from the side table. This happens to the narrator on a regular basis. He knows that monsters aren’t real but he battles to separate reality from illusion. Most nights he sleeps but on others, he wakes in a cold sweat.


text:
_DON JUAN UND FAUST_ is a German stage play by Christian Dietrich Grabbe, published in 1828, with music by Albert Lortzing. As its title suggests, it involves a meeting between Faust and Don Juan, with Grabbe intentionally seeking comparisons with Goethe's _Faust_ and Mozart's _Don Giovanni_. Its 1829 premiere at the Landestheater Detmold made it the only work of Grebbe's to be performed in his own lifetime - contemporaries criticized its pessimism, though it was praised by Kierkegaard in his _Either/Or_ for being “founded on evil” in an extraordinary way.

Plot

Don Juan goes on several amorous adventures in Rome with his servant Leporello. He courts Donna Anna, daughter of the Spanish ambassador, and provokes a duel with her naïve noble fiancé Octavio due to his own selfish desire and lust for genius. He stabs Octavio and then Anna's father after the latter tries to avenge Octavio's death. However, before Don Juan can re-capture Donna Anna, she is abducted by the magician Faust. The devil had appeared to Faust in the form of a knight and bought his soul in return for a promise of supernatural knowledge and power. However, the devil has not made good on the promise but instead inflamed Faust's soul with love of Donna Anna.

Faust thus takes Donna Anna to a castle in the Alps and tries to win her love, but she resists him just as she has already resisted Don Juan and calls on Faust to release her. Don Juan and Leporello attempt to get Anna back, but Faust hurls them both through the air back to Rome. In anger at her steadfastness, Faust kills Anna with his magic but then starts to mourn her and loses all his vitality now she is dead. As she was just another challenge to him, Don Juan sets out on a new conquest, but when he refuses to repent of his sins he is dragged to hell by the devil/knight.

Adaptations

Peter Barnes produced a modernized English-language adaptation for the BBC.

Moritz Moszkowski wrote incidental music, from which _Six Airs De Ballet_, Opus 56, have been recorded.

title: Don Juan und Faust

question: Who is Don Juan?

answer: An amorous Casanova type hero

question: Who is Donna Anna's betrothed?

answer: A noble named Octavio

question: Why does Faust want Donna Anna?

answer: The devil implanted a longing for her

question: What does Faust do with Donna Anna?

answer: He kills her

question: Write a ~6 sentence summary.

answer: Don Juan Und Faust is a German play featuring  Don  Juan. Don Juan becomes enamored with  Donna Anna and courts her. He fights her betrothed in a duel and kills him and her father. Faust kidnaps Donna Anna after the devil tricks him and makes him fall in love with her. When she rebukes his advances, Faust kills her. Don Juan sets off on another conquest, but when he refuses to repent of his sins he's dragged to hell by the devil.


text:
Oh God.  It happened again.  Oh God.

I was coming out the book store, and the wind was cold, even though the sun was shining everywhere.  It was one of those days.

And there was no one around.  Not even one of those tubby security guards that zip around on campus golf carts.  I was alone, and I felt it, all the way down.

I ought to be wearing a jacket, I  woefully pondered.  And I began my walk back to my car.  Past old bits of Fort Brown and the newer monuments of higher learning.  The walkways wore a crunchy coat of browning leaves that hid all the cracks and the windows from the science building dazzled in the mid-morning sun and the fountain with all the pennies was as green as ever.  And still, there was nobody.  Until I heard the birds.

You know when birds seem to explode out of nowhere in a violent cacophonous blur of squawks and coos and skees, creating a whirwind of black and blue and green and white feathers that swirls around and around?  And you know when those feathers seem to take shape, like you could almost see some monstrous hand reaching for you to steal away your soul?  Yeah, that probably didn’t happen.

But I could hear birds.  How long had they been chirping?  And where was I going?  I hadn’t parked over…  Where had I parked?  I couldn’t remember how I had gotten there.  Or the walk to the book store.  Or what I had done there.  My hands were empty, as well as my pockets.

*Shit.*  I thought to myself.  *This isn’t- shit. Oh, shit.*  And when I remembered what happens next I thought, *Oh!  Shit!*

What would a sane person have done in this situation, I wonder now, having experienced what these past few days have inflicted.  I suppose they wouldn’t be very sane if they did, now then, would they?

So what did I do?  I went looking for her, of course.  I ran, without thinking up anything close to a plan.  I didn’t know where she was, but I sure knew where she wasn’t.  I ran past that stupid fountain, the stupid windows, and the stupid leaves. Past the poorly stuccoed Student Union and across a lawn that was way too big to be practical.  I ran to the bridge that spanned the campus resaca.

And there she was.  Naked as always.  Even in that reality, my circulatory system had been unprepared for my gallant sprint.  That’s probably why I didn’t immediately swell up, and why, when I failed to stop without tripping to the ground, I could only lay there and breathe heavily.  A lot of things were in pain, but I’m a man, so I sat up after a while and I didn’t even cry.  Not even a little.

Oh, God.  Oh, sweet merciful sensory system.  She came and sat next to me.  I felt her arms wrap around me.  It was her.  It was her touch and her smell and that little freckle mole thing on her shoulder she used to get embarrassed about.  It was her and she was holding me again.

I looked into her eyes and began to bawl.  She squeezed me to stop.  She said I always do that, like I’m going to just get over these reunions overnight.  Overday.

I collected myself and things happened and, without a word, we walked hand in hand around the paths and plants and flowers and fountains.  We came back to the resaca to sit by the water’s edge.  And then we talked about everything.  We reminisced on that time we went to Houston in grade school and I made her throw up at that restaurant and that time last year when I put a fake spider in the shower.  We talked about the lunch we had last week and got into that argument over avacado again.  I asked her what Hell was like, to which she answered with that snort thing she does when I ask stupid questions.

I wanted to know, though.  With both hands, I pulled her face to mine.  This was the beautiful face of the smartest and funniest person I've ever known.  I looked past the tears and asked: What became of this brain when I was awake?   She rolled her reddening eyes, scoffed, breathed hard, looked away again, looked down, and repeated until I bumped her forehead with mine.  She swallowed audibly and told me.  She went into really awful detail.  You know when you don’t exist anymore, and everything you ever were is wiped away clean, and you are nothing, and you are now going to be nothing for the rest of forever?  Well, its a shitty feeling.

I reacted to this sadness by grabbing her with all my body, pulling her down to the grass, and laying there for as much of forever as I could greedily hold on to.  The sky stood still for a second, confused by my drastic intentions.  But I’m a stupid boy, and when she sprang the universe back into motion with a suggestion to go swimming, I sat straight up in my bed where I had fallen asleep after my classes.  My throat hurts and my arms ache from a flu, and my sheets are sweaty and gross.

I ask again:  How would a sane man react to this?  Chalk it up to the delusions of cough syrup?   Maybe turn on the TV and try to forget it, move on like everyone says?  Or perhaps do something really stupid like swallow the rest of the cough syrup and end up spending a weird couple of hours in the restroom chatting with the shampoo and conditioner?

Well I came here to write this down.  I know this isn’t the first time this has happened, but I can’t remember any details of the previous dreams.  Look, I need to do something and the cough syrup idea was a bust.  So I’ll write these dreams here.  Fuck you if you don’t want to read it.  I need this and I need her again.  She isn’t just some delusion and I’m not crazy.  Am I crazy?

I need some sleep.  Like you wouldn’t believe.

title: "Fuck Your Sleep Bullshit" (A Blog Entry)

question: What does the story say about the girl?

answer: She's dead, and the narrator is talking to her in a dream. The narrator seems to be in love with her. It seems that this kind of dream happens now and again, and the girl remarks that the narrator always cries when he sees her. He asks her what being dead is like, and she describes the agony of non-existence. They spend some time together before the narrator wakes up and writes this story.

question: What does the story say about how to distinguish dreams from reality?