text:
    Frank stepped out of his car and closed the door behind him.  He locked it as he walked away and didn't look to check, the clunk was enough.  The key to the front door of his terraced house went into the lock first time, without him stabbing at it. He buzzed a little fanfare with his lips and smiled - on the inside.  It was a minor success and he’ll take it.
          Once inside, he took off his coat, hung it up behind the vestibule door and took a sharp breath. The scent damp and familiar but welcoming. He eased off his shoes and socks and walked across the carpet in the dining room to get to the kitchen where he’d left his slippers. The carpet was less than a week old and felt pleasant underfoot.  He knew it wouldn't last and it irked him.
    He put the kettle on and thought about his last ever day at work.  He didn’t particularly like his job but he didn’t hate it, either.  He was just glad it was all over.  His last day finished over at the Black Horse and only drew a few of Frank's colleagues.  He enjoyed the four pints they bought for him and he was grateful but he had to be home before his phone rang.
    Frank’s only son lives in Australia.  He was looking forward to the perfunctory phone call he receives every year on his birthday, at the express wishes of his wife.  She only insists on this because she wants a new car when he eventually dies.  They can have it but there won’t be much change afterwards.  He really didn’t care for the money, anyway.
    The call came and went and was shorter than even he expected.  He made excuses for him in his own mind, saying he was busy and that he had an important job that always required his attention.  He hoped for grandchildren and that it might bring his son home.  He was doubtful, though.  His son was as stubborn as he.  A real chip off the ol’ block, you might say.  He might speak to him later in the year but, then again, he might not.
    He finished the last of his still warm cup of tea, walked into to the hallway, put the latch on the front door and proceeded to climb the stairs.  He’d take the phone off the hook as he went past it but he knew it wasn’t going to ring.  He wasn’t out of breath as he reached the top but his joints ached and it seemed an extra stair is added everytime he had to make his way to the summit.
    He entered the back bedroom, drew the curtains, switched on the light and closed the door behind him.  He slowly lowered himself to his knees, which was no trivial feat and let out an involuntary groan until he was down.  He shuffled a short distance to the front of his wardrobe and drew out a case from underneath it.  The case was bound with worn leather and had two latches that could lock but never were.  His thumbs released the latches with a satisfying snap and then proceeded to open it with one swift movement to completion.
    He gazed at its contents for a moment, the artificial light reflected back at him.  He pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, sniffed lightly and placed his hands on the cool metal of his trumpet.  With one hand on the handle of the wardrobe and the trumpet in the other, he stood.  There was a regular crack from each knee and a reply to the groan he made on his descent.  He settled himself on his feet for a minute or so and then pointed the trumpet towards the drawn curtains of the window.
    He drew in his breath and placed the mouthpiece lightly against his moist lips.  He released the air slowly and for half a second there was no sound other than the hiss of his breath, transferring its warmth to the body of the instrument, followed by a burst of sound that bounced back at him from the hard walls of the room.  He did this again and again, running a few scales until the instrument felt warm.  He was careful not tire himself out and held the trumpet with both hands close to his chest after clearing any spit from inside.
    Satisfied, he again raised the trumpet to his lips, closed his eyes and blew.  He began the only piece he knew from start to finish and as his lungs swelled, so did his heart.  Colour, vivid but warm, filled the room from the bottom up.  It warmed his face and body to a glow.  His tongue, precise and definite, his fingers light and nimble.  With each crescendo his feet hovering an inch from the carpet only to be lowered, gently, six inches into it, snug and reassuring.  His ears confirmed pitch perfection, whilst the tone and timing like no other.  Now in full flow, his body emitted the most loving ache - it consumed him.  Bar after bar, a relentless flow.
    Finally, as he neared the end and before his breath and his stamina failed him, he played the finishing notes.  The sound seemed to linger, in his imagination at least and predictably, the colours drained from the walls, albeit with less haste than they had come.  He gave the trumpet a wipe with a cloth from the case, removing any fingerprints and oiled the valves.  He returned the trumpet to its case, closed the latches without locking them and slid it back into the space under the wardrobe, now free from sight.
    His soul, like stoked embers, remained and radiated into the walls, giving them a fleeting hue as he mirrored his journey back to the kitchen.  He filled the kettle and switched it on.  If only there was another to share it with but the thought never occurred to him.  It occurred to me, though, but who am I to say?

-----

This is my first attempt at writing fiction.  Any constructive feedback is welcome.  Thanks.

title: [MF] Frank's Trumpet and Oh, How He Needs It.

question: What does the article say about Frank's daily life?

answer: He lives alone. His wife and son live far away from him. Frank worked at the Black Horse, where he seemingly gets his only socialization of the day. The story takes place after his last day there. When he gets back home, he spends some time drinking tea in the story. Considering his age, this may be a routine for him. At some point in the night, he takes out his trumpet and plays the only song he knows from start to finish. It sustains him spiritually.

question: What does the story say about how to clean a trumpet?


split: train

text:
_Republished from Islam Religion._

My name is Aisha, I am from Melbourne, Australia and here is my story.

I always found myself to be a person who liked to question things.  As a little girl, I was always asking questions as children do and as I moved into my teenage years I found myself interested in philosophy and science.  I wanted to understand how things work and to analyze the world we live in.

I started to question the Catholic Church and its practices at the age of 15.  I started to explore other faiths and after finishing a Bachelor of Science, I traveled to Nepal and India where I was exposed to a side of humanity I had never faced in Australia: A humanity that lived amongst nature and away from the materialistic way of life we have in the modern world.

This experience changed me in a way that I felt we are all one people and that we are all equal.  I felt this sense of equality amongst humankind, from talking to the holy man in India to the orphan children in Nepal, the feeling was the same: we are all equal.  This is when I started to feel Islam but I didn’t know what it was.  It was just a feeling.

When I returned from my travels, I decided to enroll into a Social Work course. After I graduated I started working with different communities.

I worked with people who are on the margins of society, people with no voice to speak out for themselves , people who have mental illnesses, people who are disabled and young people who are at risk of criminal activity.

I felt Islam even more in this work, and I felt it stronger the more I was giving to people and helping them.  I feel Islam the most when I am helping people or when people are helping me.

I then started working with the Arabic communities in Melbourne and became friends with many Muslims.  However they never spoke to me about Islam.  I worked with the community for 4 years and decided to travel to the Middle East to learn more.

I spent six months traveling around the Middle East and it was there that I started to read into Islam.  I spoke to many people about Islam while I was traveling and it was so hard to change from my identity as a spiritual human rights person to a Muslim.  This was the hardest thing.  But I could not get away from it! Islam was drawing me in and in, the pull of Islam was too strong to turn my back on.

It felt so strong and so natural to me and it was what I was searching for my whole life.  The thing that drew me to Islam was the equality amongst humanity and that there is no hierarchy.  I also loved that there are no images and no intermediary between you and God.  It is just you and Him.

I returned home from my travel to the Middle East and did not know if I would embrace Islam or not.  But on August 11, 2009 I embraced Islam and it was beautiful.  I said the _Shahadah_ and lay in my bed with a smile on my face.

The conversion has enabled me to feel close to God.  I am seeing the world now in a clearer way and everything makes sense to me.  I feel I can understand any situation without being manipulated or allured into being manipulated.

I feel like a strong woman who knows what her role is.  I feel intelligent and proud to be a Muslim.  I wish I could wear the hijab as I love wearing it, but I am too afraid to wear it in my society… maybe in the future.

It has not all been easy.  I have suffered from grief and sadness at the spiritual separation from my family and friends, and I felt social isolation especially around special times like Ramadan.  This was very hard for me.  My first Ramadan was very difficult, but I feel that God has guided me.

My family all reacted in their own unique way.  My mum was worried that she hadn’t raised me the right way, and that I would wear the scarf, which would upset her.  She was also upset that men can have four wives.

My father was very angry and felt the need to protect himself and his faith, and started talking also about the oppression of women and terrorism.

My sister said that as long as it makes me happy, she is okay with it, but she was worried we might grow further apart.

At the moment, I am up and down.  Everyday is different.  It has been difficult, because I am now feeling like a minority.  Although the Muslim sisters I am meeting are all so warm and loving, I feel I have been raised in a different way, and so I feel isolated and afraid sometimes.

But I know in my heart that God is with me and whenever I am afraid I remind myself that God led me to Islam and I say Alhamdulillah (Thankful praise be to Allah).

question: What did Aisha do after finishing her Bachelor of Science?

answer: She traveled to Nepal and India where she was exposed to a society that lives among nature and away from the materialistic way of life.

question: What did she do after she came back from Nepal and India?

answer: She enrolled in a Social Work course and after graduation started to work with different communities in need.

question: On what date did she embrace Islam?

answer: On August 11, 2009.

question: How did the author's family react to her becoming Muslim?

answer: Her mom was worried at the thought of her daughter having to wear the scarf and at the thought Muslim man have 4 wives. She became defensive towards his faith and oppressive toward the muslin faith. Her sister said that she is fine as long as her sister is happy.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Aisha was born and raised in a catholic family in Australia. As a teenager, she started questioning the world and her church. After graduating with a Bachelor of Science and various world travels she started experiencing Islam and soon became a muslin. Her family members all reacted differently and now she is struggling with accommodating in her new religion.


text:
She knew the day would not go her way from the sounds stirring up out of the garage. A few dings, a couple of bangs, that was typical. Not like this. This sounded like something gone wrong. Kat pushed up off the couch, wandered her way to the door connecting the house to the garage, and leaned in the frame of it.

There was Vincis, standing in front of a car; its hood was up and he was staring into it’s guts as if it had verbally accosted him, as if it had offended him, personally.

Kat frowned just a bit. She didn’t know who the car belonged to, but she did know it was some high roller, someone who could possibly make Vincis’ day a little less pleasant, if he so felt like it. And why not, right? Why not heap more issues on a guy that was already so high strung, they could use him for the telegraph?

Quietly, she stepped into the garage - but not quietly enough. This was, after all, Vincis’ domain, and nothing happened in here without his knowledge. She got about halfway to him when he turned his head, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Impossibly bright and blue, eyes he got from his father, much to his dismay.

“H-Hey,” he said, a hint of a smile trying to make it across his features. It didn’t quite make it, but she noticed the attempt. It was enough in her book. “I’m s-sorry. Was I m-making t-too much noise?”

She smiled at him, shaking her head. “Nah, not too much.” Soon she was right beside him, and neatly checked him with her hip. “What are you working on?” And instantly, she could see the way Vincis’ features, which had just started to relax, tighten up again. He turned back forward, gesturing with his hand to the car before them, lips dipping into a frown.

“I c-can’t figure out wh-what’s wrong with it. I’ve tried everyth-thing.” Here, he reached up, running his hand through his hair - something Kat knew he only did, especially with greasy hands, when he was truly upset. Vincis tended to view cars as puzzles - and if he couldn’t fix one….well.

This was his talent. If he were incapable of fixing a car, he generally thought it to mean that he was incapable of performing and from there, things just went downhill. It was the little things that always bothered Vincis, not the big things. Launch an idea at him that might terrify another man, and he handled it like a champ. Give him a car he couldn’t fix?

He tended to take that poorly. Add in the fact that the car happened to belong to some big-wig, and Kat was pretty sure that all was not well upstairs.

The slim, delicate line of her hand reached out, long fingers coiling around his bicep. “How long do you have?” she asked, the dark line of her brow arching.

“Until the end of the w-week.”

And with that, she smiled. “You’ve got plenty of time, baby. You’re the best mechanic in town - you’ll figure it out.”

“But w-what if I’m not the b-best mechanic in town?” he suddenly snapped - and if his flinch was any sign, a little harder than he meant to. Kat wasn’t so much as phased, though.  She just smiled at him, that same lazy, easy smile, the one that had charmed his socks off from the start.

“Well, he doesn’t know that, now does he?” she asked. “And he can damn well wait, just like any other person can.” Vincis’ features crumpled a bit, looking from her to the car.

“I…I j-just don’t w-want to be a s-screwup. N-not in my w-work and…and n-not w-with you,” he muttered, gaze shifting downwards - only to be pulled around when she took his chin, turning his face to her.

“Hey…Vincis, I don’t love you because of the parts of you that I like.”

Briefly, the red-head looked completely, utterly baffled, totally not understanding just what the hell that was supposed to mean.

The ex-prostitute clarified it for him: “I love you for the parts about you I don’t like.”

title: [Short Story][Fiction] Flawed - 707 words

question: What makes the relationship between Kat and Vincis special?

answer: The story suggests that Vincis is vulnerable and Kat is supportive of him, leading him to trust what she says when he doubts himself.

question: What does Kat love about Vincis?

answer: She loves the things she doesn't like about Vincis.

question: What doesn't Kat Like about Vincis?

answer: It is suggested that Kat is saying she loves Vincis because of his imperfections, and those imperfections arenät clearly laid out in the text, but are present in his demeanor.

question: What is the general mood of the story?

answer: It has a romantic spin.

question: Does Vincis have a stutter?

answer: The dialogue appears to suggest he does.


text:
It was in the dead of night when I was snatched from my home. I was lying asleep beside the ones I love, under the stars with the cool wind gently whistling past me. It all happened so suddenly, the grinding noises of a machine filled the air as I heard the muffled screams of my brothers and sisters being torn from their resting places. Before I could even attempt to make a run for safety, a large metal arm scooped me up and put me in a cramped room of some sort. It was completely dark, I could only experience the crushing weight of others like me above my head and hear the cries of younglings who couldn’t find their families.

After some period of time the ruckus settled down and we all awaited some development in our terrifying situation. Outside the walls of our confinement odd grunts and wicked guffaws could be heard. It was nothing I recognized, no species I had ever heard of. Anticipation built as everyone heard the odd noises and thundering steps advance towards us. To my dismay, the room began to move. Another sickening grunt ensued as the cell was lifted into the air and laid down with a thud. We then began to slide forward until we crashed into some sort of wall. I tried to figure out was was happening, but I was startled by a orchestra of cacophonous noises. Rattles, bangs, and growls of a different machine started rekindling the loud uncontrolled panic that the group had experienced before, and it was only heightened when the machine began to move us. Slow at first, but soon we we’re flying faster than any bird I had ever seen in the open sky.

It was two days before I experienced the comfort of sight again. We were all dumped together into a large shiny cage with a hole in the bottom. One by one we would fall through to who knew where. I slowly got closer and closer, all the while the increasing sounds of evil machines humming and that unknown language filled my head. I fell through defenseless as some black material pulled me forward at a constant rate. It was at this time when I learned the source of the groans. These odd sand colored creatures were picking at me, clipping off pieces of my body, and spraying me with a bitter, bright colored water. They paid no attention to the agony I suffered, they continued to work on me, providing no explanation as to what was happening. They just kept ripping at me and spraying me with that tainted water. I withstood as much as I could until finally my body could take no more, and all turned black.

I woke up later to the hum of the machine which moved with great speeds. I was once again in a room, smashed against fellow brethren, and none of them knew any more that what I did. We had all undergone the same brutal treatments, and we had all seen the sand colored creatures who inflicted our pain. We tried to figure out why, but none of us reached a consensus. It was decided to drop the topic because none of us were going to benefit from fretting over something we couldn’t control. I personally decided to rest, for I was feeling quite ill. It must have been the water they gave me I told myself, then I did my best to go to sleep.

It wasn’t long before I was once again flooded with bright light, and I was ready to  experience the hell of the creature’s machines and sickly water. To my surprise, this place was different, but just as odd. I was on some sort of display, surrounded by my own kind, and some other species that I had never seen before. Not like the sand colored creatures though, these creatures look just as scared and confused as I was. And when I observed my kind, I noticed that they all looked like they were dying, their outsides were beginning to turn brown, and as I checked my own body, I noticed it was doing the same. I felt awful, I know I wasn’t healthy, I could practically feel the life leeching out of me. I was craving pure water, luckily that one desire of mine was fulfilled. Every so often a spritz of water, almost like a early spring mist would rain down upon us. I deduced that it was enough to keep us alive until who knew what. The only thing that I knew was that my days left on this precious Earth were limited.

Sand colored people started examining us. They would come to our display, lift us from our resting places, look us over, and they would either take us away or they would place us back where we were before they had taken us. It was an odd sight, there were all shapes and sizes of these creatures; they seemed to travel in packs. There was a leader, sometimes two, and they were often followed by smaller replicas. On occasion I would see a solitary creature walk past looking sad, almost lonely. I needed to know what these things were and why they were treating us as they were.

I had been in the display for some time before I was finally taken. One of the lonely creatures had stopped by and picked me up along with one of my neighbors. We were violently tossed into a smaller enclosure that it was pushing around, full of other victims it had taken. For some time we were still in the giant room that held our display and we were being pushed around. Other things that I had never seen before were being stacked on top of us. It was torturous, the weight of these items crushed against my weak body, and I was more vulnerable than I had ever been. It was odd however, after a short period of time, we were taken from the enclosure and placed in some sort of sack. From there we went out to the world that I had not seen for so long. The sun kissed my aching outsides, and I once again saw the birds that I had missed oh so dearly.

That brings me to where I am now. After being taken back out to the world I had missed, I was quickly placed back into one of those machines that move so quickly. The time I was in the machine was much shorter than any I had spent before, and we were soon in an enclosure that only our captor seemed to live in. We were placed on a surface, and it began to experiment. The other one like me went first, I remember him quite fondly. I believe he was already dead, which was good for I witnessed him being dismembered by the sand colored creature and thrown into a round basin. He was mixed with others who had suffered the same fate. Some were small red creatures, others were little cylindrical orange creatures, but the most prominent species in the basin was that of my own. The green leaves laid in the basin dead and in pieces. Next he was covered in some sort of thick, foreign liquid. After dousing those poor creatures in the liquid, he stabbed them all with a four tonged weapon of some sort and ate them, right in front of me. The creature seemed to be repeating a noise that sounded like salad, I have no clue what that is. The only thing that I know is that these will be my last words, I hope someday, someone will find this and uncover the mystery of the sand colored creatures who murdered me and all I loved.

title: Lettuce Pray for a New Tomorrow

question: What reason(s) behind the kidnapping of the narrator?

answer: The narrator was kidnapped from his home at midnight. He was sleeping alongside his family when taken. A large robot scooped him up from his sleeping place and carried him off with other people amidst cries for help. The narrator was kept in a shiny cage and some unknown creatures clipped pieces of his body while spraying him with some colored water. He and some other humans were transported to another enclosure where he witness his cellmates being dismembered and eaten.


text:
_JOHN HENRY AND THE INKY-POO_ is a 1946 stop-motion animation film written and directed by George Pal using Pal's _Puppetoons_ stop-motion style.[1] The film is based on African American folk hero John Henry.[2][3]

_John Henry and the Inky-Poo_ was nominated for an Oscar for Best Animated Short for the 19th Academy Awards.[4] In 2015, the film was selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry by the Library of Congress as being “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant”.[5][6]

It was also included in the 1987 compilation film _The Puppetoon Movie_.

Reception

-   _The Film Daily_ (Aug 14, 1946): “In a departure from the fables dreamed up for the familiar scarecrow and the little pickaninny (Jasper) character, usually featured in this series. George Pal has produced an engaging Puppetoon version of the legendary figure, John Henry, drawn from the annals of American Folklore, who pitted his brawn and brains against the steam engine known as the Inky Poo in order to dispel the fear of his railroad coworkers that machines would eventually put them out of work. The Technicolor, Rex Ingram's narration, and the folk song delivered by the Luvenia Nash singers are all standouts.”[7]

_Boxoffice_ (Dec 9, 1946): “Excellent musical background is furnished by the Luvenia Nash Choral group in this take off on American folk story.”[8]

[1]

[2]

[3] The George Pal Site: John Henry and the Inky-Poo-AWN

[4] BCDB

[5]

[6]  Film Registry {{!}} National Film Preservation Board {{!}} Programs at the Library of Congress {{!}} Library of Congress|url=https://www.loc.gov/programs/national-film-preservation-board/film-registry/complete-national-film-registry-listing/%7Caccess-date=2020-11-17%7Cwebsite=Library of Congress, Washington, D.C. 20540 USA}}

[7]

[8]

title: John Henry and the Inky-Poo

question: What is John Henry and the Inky-Poo?

answer: John Henry and the Inky-Poo is a 1946 stop-motion animated movie.

question: Who is John Henry?

answer: John Henry is African American folk hero, a railroad worker.

question: Has John Henry and the Inky-Poo won an Oscar?

answer: No, but it was nominated for an Oscar for Best Animated Short for the 19th Academy Awards.

question: What is the Inky Poo?

answer: The Inky Poo is a steam engine.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: John Henry and the Inky-Poo is a 1946 stop-motion animated movie nominated for an Oscar for Best Animated Short for the 19th Academy Awards. The movie is about John Henry, a railroad worker, who organizes competing against the steam engine the Inky Poo because his colleagues fear for their jobs.


text:
“Alright, are we gonna do this thing or not?”

I missed that familiar odour. The sweet, nostalgic smell of a once remembered past. Little did he know, this was but another reoccurrence; just another pest trying to bust my chops. I've partaken in a fair share of tussles as captain of the St. Fieri, the most prominent of sea vessels in all of Old Norse Arabia. It's name was influenced by world renowned culinary "expert", Guy Fieri. I idolized him rather than his lame cooking attempts but for more for his bleached facial hair and frosted tips, a true remnant of late 90s. For this stranger to think that he could cause me agony on a ride via public transit would be to his upper advantage was a complete act of tomfoolery at its best. I began with a taunt as I laced my figure skates to perform a perfect sow cow and closed with a triple lutz. Sergei was an excellent coach. The stranger began quivering in a perturbed manner, the scent of faeces lingered through the stale air. I had forced him to perform what proctologists refer to as a "fear shart". It was too late for him to turn his back because he just got himself invited to a fist flying fiesta; I had a chopsocky chimichanga with his name on it. I landed the first strike with my signature "Fieri Fist" and took him straight to flavour town. I aimed for his prostate to make sure he could never sing again. "Money," I whispered softly.  While he was coaxed into a snafu, I quickly reached for my corn pipe out of my  crocodile leather holster for a quick twiddle and gave him some hoedown southern twang. Finally, my quiet lifestyle as a dairy farmer in northern Idaho finally payed off. I'd like to see him try enjoy a hot plate of collard greens with a straight face after that one. The poor man couldn't handle the shock of cultures and that's just where I wanted him. He cowered towards the edge of the bus' hydraulic platform in his attempt to escape my wrath. A thick trail of blood oozed from his fragile, eggshell torso underneath his hand-me-down Hall & Oats concert t-shirt. I grabbed him by the cuffs of his corduroy pants, rolled four inches too high from his ankle, confirming my thesis that he is indeed spaz, to perform my finishing blow. I began to build torque, mixing the hot winds of my steamy flatulence and the cool winds of my lucky ice cream sandwich I always keep in my breast pocket for safe measures, therefore creating the most devastating of all typhoons. I let all control reside to the power of the cyclone as it rummaged through all of Canada's smallest towns. I think I miss Ajax most of all. Horses, sheep, cattle, and the odd emu plummeted down to Earth, seeming as if Noah's ark had gone aerial. With my fist still clenched to his geeky attire, I began my chant. A familiar silhouette of Tom Jones appeared in the horizon to join me in our duet. The fans went ballistic as Mr. Jones and I broke out into complete hysteria while we sang his 1965 hit single, "What's New Pussycat?". To this day, I still don't know how we ended up at Bonnaroo. We began our descent abruptly. Several tears streamed down his cheek but only whiskers streamed out from mine. Wham! We hit the ground with enough velocity to pulverize the adamantium claws of Wolverine. When the smoke cleared, I could see the face of a man, nay, a boy with severe regret. "Where are the papers," implying that I wanted the stolen evidence. He struggled for his paisley fedora on top of his seat but I swiped it away before he could lay a finger. Under the brim, too predictable. I inserted the evidence into my handy, dandy pocket shredder, an apparatus ready for when ever I need to destroy a classified document on the go. Those papers were never meant to be seen my the eyes of pure sin; not even I was worthy. As I made my departure, I heard a faint shout. "Wait, who are you?" I hadn't exactly figured that part out myself. I buttoned up my jean jacket vest upon my flannel pyjama top, strapped on my traveller's fanny pack, reached into my baggy pantaloons to pull out my Top Gun inspired aviators I scored at my cousin's Bar Mitzvah, and whispered…"Talkin' 'bout, hey now! Hey now! I-KO, I-KO, un-day!" The swift jingle jangles of The Dixie Cups poured out my mouth like a champagne waterfall. "Jack-a-mo fee-no ai na-na, Jock-a-mo fee na-na-" Hold on a second, I'm not singing that. Who changed the ringtone only my alarm clock? Why is the entire living room floor covered with soda? Wait, is that Mello Yello? How is it that I wreak of curdled milk? Was Ron Burgundy right? Is that ringing just in my head or am I just late for class. Didn't I just say I was in my living room? I am in my living room. I am late for class. Maybe just one more bowl.

title: Grizzled Veteran

question: What is the narrator describing?

answer: An imaginary fight resulting from drugs; a drug trip.

question: What's the relevance of Guy Fieri?

answer: The narrator idolizes him.

question: When does the story take place?

answer: Sometime after Top Gun and Guy Fieri's fame; sometime after the early 2000s.

question: Who is the narrator?

answer: Unclear, apparently a student late for class doing drugs in their living room.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator describes, in an absolutely chaotic, random, haphazard way, their drug trip and all the things they imagine. They come to in their living room suddenly aware that they're late for class, but are tempted to do another bowl of drugs.


text:
Hearing Aid Styles

There is a style of hearing aid for everyone. Featuring sleek and discreet design, today's hearing aids fit some of the world's most advanced technology comfortably inside your ear canal or behind your ear.

[EarQ hearing aid style - behind the ear]

Behind-the-Ear

As the name suggests, BTE hearing aids are designed to rest comfortably behind your ear. A small, clear, plastic tube transfers sound from the device to a tiny speaker or custom ear mold that sits in your ear canal.

[EarQ hearing aid style - receiver in canal]

Receiver-in-the-Canal

RIC hearing aids also rest behind your ear, but their sound receivers sit within your ear canal instead of inside the device unit. The part behind your ear just contains the technology that processes the sounds.

[EarQ hearing aid style - in the ear]

In-the-Ear

ITE hearing aids are designed to rest completely inside your outer ear. To ensure the devices are a perfect fit, your hearing healthcare professional will take a mold of your ear.

[EarQ hearing aid style - in the canal]

In-the-Canal

ITC hearing aids sit almost completely inside your ear canal and are designed to be less noticeable than other styles. Similar to ITE hearing aids, ITC devices are created using a custom mold of your ear canal.

[EarQ hearing aid style - completely in canal]

Completely-in-the-Canal

Extremely small, CIC hearing aids are comfortably molded to sit fully inside your ear canal, making them invisible to others.

[EarQ hearing aid style - BTE power plus]

BTE Power Plus

For severe hearing loss, BTE power plus models are larger due to the battery size and technology needed for increased amplification.

[EarQ hearing aid style - RIC mini-rite]

RIC Mini-Rite

Some hearing aids in the receiver-in-the-canal family also come available in the mini-rite sub-style. These typically reprsent a smaller device and a sleeker shape.

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Tinnitus Therapy

Tinnitus, a perception of sound in the ears and/or head, affects more than 50 million Americans. It commonly presents as a ringing, buzzing, or whooshing noise; however, the sound and pitch varies from person to person. Tinnitus typically occurs after exposure to loud noises and damage to the ear's hair cells. Some people experience persistent tinnitus, for which there is no cure.

While there is no known cure for tinnitus, some hearing aids have tinnitus therapy features. This advanced technology provides soothing tones and enhances speech to distract your brain from the noise. It's time to stop the ringing in your ears. See EarQ's selection of tinnitus therapy hearing aids.

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PUT YOUR HEARING TO THE TEST

Sometimes, hearing loss happens so gradually that it can be difficult to notice at first. However, there are some common signs that indicate you may have hearing loss. Want some answers now? Take this short survey to determine if it's time for you to make a hearing appointment.

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Read the following statements and select “yes” if they apply to you most of the time, “sometimes” if they apply once in a while, and “no” if they don't apply at all.

I have trouble hearing the other person on the phone.

YES SOMETIMES NO

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question: Why are there different styles of hearing aids instead of just one style for everyone?

answer: The variation in styles fulfills a functional purpose for the end users of the hearing aids. Some people may want to hide the device, so the CIC devices work for them, meanwhile, the BTW power plus provides better performance for users with severe hearing issues. It is logical that type of hearing has its own unique feature that makes it more appropriate to use in certain situations.


text:
[Sebastián Ducete (attributed): _Christ on the Cross_, early 17th century, polychrome wood carving in the Museu Frederic Marès, Barcelona] [Sebastián Ducete: _Christ at the Column_, early 17th century in the church San Gil Abad, Burgos ] SEBASTIÁN DUCETE (or _' de Ucete_'; 1568–between 1619[1][2][3] and 1621[4]) was a Spanish sculptor. He was born to the sculptor Pedro Ducete Díez in Toro, Zamora[5][6] in whose workshop Sebastián collected first experiences.[7] From 1591 on he was trained by the sculptor Juan Sanz de Torrecilla from Palencia.[8] From 1595 to 1598 he worked in one workshop with his uncle Juan Ducete the Younger.[9]

1598 entered Ducete's workshop as an apprentice. From 1612 to Ducete's death he was his partner.[10] The workshop of these two is known as Toro workshop.[11] In 1611 Ducete was in Valladolid.[12]

It is difficult to differentiate between Ducete and Rueda since both were influenced by Juan de Juni and Gregorio Fernández though the influence of Juni on Ducete was stronger, his style is more expressive, dynamic and mannerist.[13] One of the workshop's main works is the main retable in the Iglesia de San Miguel Arcángel in Peñaranda de Bracamonte, Salamanca. Ducete and Rueda signed the contract for the work on 11 June 1618. It is disputed if Ducete still worked on the retable. Van Hess claims that Ducete died in 1619 before working began.[14] In 1971 a fire in the church destroyed the retable apart from two figures.[15] Ducete died in Toro.

Works

-   Crucifixion and a statue of the Virgin (1592), San Martín, Pinilla de Toro[16]
-   Retable (1602), [17]
-   Sculptures of the retable, church of the [18]
-   Retable with the fine relief of the Granting of the chasuble to Saint Ildefonsus (1607), San Pedro, Villalpando. It is influenced by Juni. Rueda worked on the garments which are influenced by Gregorio Fernández.[19]
-   Paso processional figure of Christ with articulated arms (1615; untraced), for a [20]
-   Relief _Virgin and Child with Saint Anne_ as part of a retable possibly for the Convento de los Carmelitas Descalzos in Medina del Campo, , Valladolid.[21] Ducete's style is influenced by Juni. It contrasts with the predella by Rueda who completed the retable.[22]
-   (Attributed) _Christ on the Cross_ (early 17th century), polychrome wood carving, Museu Frederic Marès, Barcelona, MFM 1120

Retablo peñaranda antiguo.jpg|Main retable in the Iglesia de San Miguel Arcángel, Peñaranda de Bracamonte Toro - Mº de Santa Sofia 1.jpg|Sculptures of the retable in the church of the Monasterio de Santa Sofía, Toro Valladolid - Santuario Nacional de la Gran Promesa 06.jpg|Relief _Virgin and Child with Saint Anne_, Santuario Nacional de la Gran Promesa, Valladolid

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[2]

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[4]  (PDF)

[5]

[6]

[7] .

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

[13]

[14]

[15] Cf. Peñaranda de Bracamonte#Peñaranda hasta la actualidad in the Spanish Wikipedia.

[16]

[17]

[18]

[19]

[20]

[21]

[22]

title: Sebastián Ducete

question: When was Ducete born?

answer: 1568

question: Where was Ducete born?

answer: Toro, Zamora

question: Who was Ducete's father?

answer: Pedro Ducete Diez, a sculptor

question: Where did Ducete die?

answer: Toro, Zamora

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: Sebastian Ducete was a Spanish sculptor born in 1568 in Toro, Zamora to Pedro Ducete Diez, who was also a sculptor. Ducete died in Toro sometime between 1619 and 1621.


text:
“Jason, there’s no reason you should be out here this late,” called Ashley from beside the car. It was midnight on a Saturday night in Amherst, Massachusetts. All that could be heard was the hum of the electricity post, but besides that, it was dead silence. There was the occasional creature or two lurking around in the wilderness besides the tracks with some dross thrown here or there. But Jason was there to intake all the beauty of the outside world that night. He couldn’t be happier. He had a great job at the local sports shop. His father’s company had really taken off, they were wealthier than ever with no liabilities left, thanks to the family getting remunerated from prior events, and his brother had finally found true love and was engaged to the girl of his dreams. He felt the same sensation when talking to Ashley. He truly believed he had everything, but there was always that one thing missing.

“Ash, didn’t think you’d find me here!” replied Jason getting up running to greet Ashley with a short hug.

“Where else would you be? Whenever you don’t answer your phone after a ton of texts this late at night, there’s only one place you go,” Ashley stated, walking over to the grass field Jason had been lying on. It was beautiful. Away from the city, the lights, the noise. Nothing but silence, except the creek down the hill and the occasional fluster of the wind… then suddenly the tremble started, the lights shone upon them, and the sound of a train horn rung in the air. It flew passed them as they sat there in silence. The sound of the train had dwindled by now, but the memories came back to Jason as they have like every other night.
The sounds. The shouting. The nightmare that happened that day. Jason was eleven, but still remembers it like it was yesterday. He had been in school, but had a feeling something was wrong the whole day. His mother had been in an asylum under intense mental care. Things had been fine until Jason’s brother passed. He was six years old at the time and had gotten cancer. Jason had asked if he was immune to it or not, and was told it wasn’t a disease you could catch. It was a slow decline and it tore their mother apart. The plan was to get her rejuvenated by bringing her to this institution after she was deemed an unfit mother post loss after being pugnacious, hard to live with, and not bringing her kids up “right”. That one fateful day in school changed everything though. The office had gotten an emergency call saying that his mother had escaped from the asylum and they were afraid she was going to the school to get Jason in some warped vision the woman had. Jason was called down to the office for “personal matters” and instantly knew it was regarding his mother. He decided to venture out to find his mother, being eleven it was the only thing he knew. He was walking home on the sidewalk path, when he heard the yells. He broke into a sprint and just got there to see a train whoosh by, people staring in horror, Jason breaking into rabid tears, as the woman that was once standing on the tracks was no more.

Though the moment was sparse before Ashley interrupted, he still lay quiet on the grass reliving that dreaded moment. He wished he could go into a different realm, where his family was still together. The money didn’t matter, the little things didn’t matter. It made him appreciate life and others on a whole different level. It was preposterous how some people could care so little for the ones they love. Thinking about his mother, he started to get sad. All he had left was his older brother who was leaving soon and his father. “It’s okay, Jason. I’m not going anywhere,” assured Ashley, consoling him in her arms. After a few minutes of sitting there, Jason stood up and changed the subject not to dilate the current one more than he had.

“Ashley, I don’t think I can ever repay for what you’ve given me,” Jason started, “I would never have been able to get through all this without someone like you. I want you to know that.” Ashley’s sterling eyes staring directly back into his without the least bit of flippant in her voice.

“Always.”

title: The Moment

question: Who are the main characters of the story?

answer: Jason and Ashley. Jason's mother mental decline and suicide is also mentioned.

question: Explain the major events of the story.

answer: Jason is in a field late at night. His friend Ashley finds him there. Together they experience the rush of train thundering by. He relives his mother's suicide when he was 11 years old and she stepped in front of a train. Ashley promises to always be with him.

question: What is Jason's relationship with Ashley?

answer: They are good friends. Ashley helps him process his mother's suicide.

question: Why was Jason out so late at night?

answer: He was visiting a train track to relive the nightmare day his mother committed suicide by stepping in front of a train.

question: What was missing in Jason's life?

answer: Jason's mother committed suicide after his younger brother passed away due to cancer.

question: Write a ~7 sentence summary.

answer: Jason is in a field late at night. His friend Ashley finds him there. Together they experience the rush of train thundering by. He relives his mother's suicide when he was 11 years old and she stepped in front of a train. His mother experienced severe mental decline after his younger brother succumbed to cancer when he was 6 years old. Jason thanks Ashely for being with him and helping him through this. Ashley promises to always be with him.


text:
Come to think about it, people really are disgusting. Thin and tall creatures made up mostly of slime and viscera, not that other animals are any different; multiplying uncontrollably and feeding off one another’s suffering. We like to think of life as something good, of living things as something that is somehow desirable for someone or something, somewhere. We try not to see past the shallow, thin and dry skin, but in the end it doesn’t take more than a small razor blade across the guts to expose ourselves, we’re all slime, we’re all disgusting-
Adam’s train of thought was interrupted by a strange figure on the side of the road. A hitch-hiker in a place like this? Not that he was too far from any civilization but still there was nothing but woods for a few miles across and the mid-November weather was cold enough for snow to start falling down any second now.

The strange man looked less inconspicuous the closer Adam drove to him; with his dirty and greasy looking unkempt beard and a muddied thick dark green jacket, a wrinkled hand with a thumb blackened at the borders of its nail sticking out in the sky, his eyes staring mindlessly at nothing in particular, his lined face pointing in the general direction of the old red Monza Adam drove.
“What’s this hobo doing in the middle of nowhere? Crazy guy.”
The sight made Adam marginally curious, but nothing more; surely someone had dropped him there instead of on his actual destination for some reason, maybe he pissed himself in the car or wouldn’t stop rambling like a maniac until the driver finally had enough.

Adam decided to forget about it, he adjusted the hear-view mirror to take a last glimpse at the man slowly vanishing in the distance and then faced the mirror at himself.
His eyes were baggy from too much irregular sleep, most of the time he didn’t feel like doing anything but staying in bed, except at night, when he couldn’t actually sleep; he wasn’t sure if his receding hairline was due to his poor health and bad habits but he hated it. He’d hated it since the first time a high-school friend of his made a joke about it. It wasn’t a big deal for his friend, but it was for Adam, who in a few months started cutting his auburn hair extremely short.

---

I've probably done lots of things wrong, I never tried writing a story like this before so... yeah. Plus English isn't my main language so there's that. Thanks for reading anyway.

---
tl;dr: Guy sees hitch-hicker

title: So, my first jab at writing (Incomplete draft)

question: Why does Adam find the hitchhiker strange?

answer: He's far from any civilization and it's very cold outside

question: What time of year is it?

answer: Mid-November

question: Why did Adam start cutting his hair short?

answer: To help cover up his receding hairline

question: Why does Adam have trouble sleeping?

answer: He has a very irregular sleep schedule; he stays in bed during the day and then has trouble sleeping at night

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Adam is driving and thinking about how disgusting people are when he suddenly sees a hitchhiker on the side of the road, which he finds strange because he is far from civilization and it's very cold outside. Adam continues on and forgets about the hitchhiker. He then looks at himself in the rear view mirror and thinks about his irregular sleep schedule and receding hairline.


text:
“Where am I? Who are these people around me?” I thought to myself when I first woke up. I slowly lifted myself up and rubbed my eyes thoroughly as if there was something in them, but nothing was. I looked over; a lady kindly greeted me and handed me a folder. As soon as the folder was within my possession I knew what must be done; it was pure instinct. I immediately opened it up and read all of the information.

     I remembered that my name was Bob Lamron. I am 23 years old, have neither children nor a wife; they were only given to you if you had proven yourself faithful and intelligent enough. I asked the women who handed me the folder where I was and what events had occurred that left me in this situation. She just looked at me and smiled.

     Two rather large males, who appeared to be body guards disguised as physicians, led me out the front door. As soon as I walked out, a car appeared out of nowhere. From the car came a robotic voice; it addressed me by name and commanded me to enter the automobile. As I got in the car, the voice spoke again. It asked me what my home address was. I had no clue; I could not even remember if I had children 10 minutes ago. How was I supposed to answer the voice with details of my forget life? The women who had presented me with the folder, a nurse, that I had woken up next to, ran out of the building and handed me the same folder that I had left behind in the room. I opened it up and aloud, “2534 Egareva Rd.” As soon as the words had left my mouth, the taxi immediately sped off, presumably to the address.

      As I saw the things I passed by I started to remember details, like I had never forgotten them at all. Trees, Birds, people, restaurants, fountains, everything! It was all flooding in as if there was a dam in my brain and it had just been ruptured without notice. We arrived at my house and I opened the front door. I walked into my room and sat down. I could not recall the events that had occurred before I woke up. It was like the dam of knowledge in my mind had been concealed.

     My mind had locked away any memories of the events and I could not do anything about it. The more I thought, the more my head hurt.
It felt like one of those moments when you are mid conversation with someone and another person, uninvolved in the conversation, calls your name. You stop talking in order to address the interjection of your name, but when you try to come back into the original conversation, you can’t remember what you were talking about no matter how hard you try. I sat there on my couch and tried as hard as I could to recall what had happened.

     I then positioned myself so that I could see out of the window. I saw a grey, bleak world. Everything was so average, so normal. The only color people were given permission to wear were different shades of grey. The lighter your color, the higher up your social class was. I was just an average grey.

     As I was thinking through all of this, my eyes were fixed upon a section of peeling paint in the right corner of my peripheral vision. For some reason I knew I was supposed to go over to it; it was like I had some kind of cosmic urge. My hand lifted from my side and I started to peel the paint. It came off fairly easily, far too easier than any paint should have, for that matter. Suddenly, I saw something concealed under the peeling paint. I knew I had to uncover it. As I tore the paint off a fit overcame me. Next thing I knew, I was tearing, ripping, and enjoying this more than anything I had enjoyed before. I was ripping everything in sight off the wall.

     I stepped back and looked at my wall and there was writing everywhere. The memories started flooding back into my head of what had happened. I had uncovered something big. The government had been spiking everyone. Now they wouldn’t just bug a room, or a camera in a park to see what was going on, they were putting microphones in you. They had put chips in your brain so that they could see, think, hear, and smell everything you have ever come in contact with. Knowing I had just remembered this I knew they would be after me. I shut the blinds and closed the door in my room.

     I lightly lifted a blind cover and looked out the window. I saw a slim, black, shiny car pulled up to the front of my building. The same two men who had accompanied me out of the hospital got out of the black car. I sat there shaking, wondering what I could do. The second I saw them barge in through the front door, I jumped out of my second story bedroom and landed on the pavement. My ankle buckled and I felt a sharp pain but I knew I had to get out of here and tell someone what is going on. I screamed names but no one would listen to me. I was living in a selfish world where people only cared about themselves. I gave up. I fell to the floor, my ankle throbbing, and looked at the door to my building, expecting the two men to walk through. I was doomed.

     The two men eventually came out of my building and grabbed me. They didn’t say a word; all they would do is stare straight forward. Then they put me in the back of the car and drove off. It was the exact same route that led back to my house. I had only been out for an hour, at most and here I was, being dragged back.

     When I got there the female nurse was sitting there with a needle filled with what appeared to be a sedative. As she inserted it in my vein, two doctors walked into the room. The first said, “Okay, begin sedation and we’ll get ready for the micro-chip reset.”
The other doctor responded, “Looks like this one didn’t turn out to well again like the last time.”

	As they finished their sentences I realized something. They have been resetting everyone until they get every single one of us to be perfect for their society. They don’t want people to have character or personality; they are just looking to create the most generic human being, like emotionless robots. As I thought this, I started to black out.

     “Where am I? Who are these people around me?” I thought to myself when I first woke up. I slowly lifted myself up and rubbed my eyes thoroughly as if there was something in them, but nothing was. I looked over; a lady kindly greeted me and handed me a folder.

title: Deja Vu

question: What does the story say about why the protagonist is in the hospital?

answer: The protagonist has amnesia and can remember several details only about himself. A nurse is going to give him a sedative. Someone is about to reset the microchip. The protagonist realizes that they have been resetting everyone until they get everyone to be perfect for their society.

question: What does the story say about what kind of people the men want to create?


text:
"I had been driving for a long time. I still remember the calm sky: clouds were gathering up around the sun as it was getting ready to be tucked behind the green hill of trees. It wasn't bright orange but instead, the mellow type. The type that the sun turns just as it sets. There were hills covered with trees everywhere. That's why it was my favorite road. The drive was smooth, the hills were covered with trees, and it was a road going uphill and around the mountains. It all eventually led to my favorite scenic spot outside the city."

"What made it so special?" She said in a very intrigued tone.

"I could see the whole city from this one place. Not only that, but I could see the sun set. It make me feel relaxed. Calm. Pensive. It was the one place where I could just look and think about anything I wanted to, without distractions. A place where I could think"

"About what?" She said curiously.

"Stuff" I said.

" Henry, It doesn't help keeping it in. If you talk about it, it'll help. So tell me, what was it that you couldn't stop thinking about?" She said

She was right. I couldn't keep it in forever, but I wanted to. I was never the one to talk about my feelings openly yet, I was the one who could always get others to spill their emotions in a split second. Ironic isn't it? I guess it was a new feeling. I've always felt like I didn't need anyone to talk about my feelings; as if I could do it by myself. Sort of like playing self psychologist. It was fun. It got me thinking.  But it didn't work. Perhaps this was the perfect way to open up, but I couldn't. It was hard and I was scared.

"Henry, what's bothering you?" I knew I had to start at some point.

" I don't know, a lot of things" Well that was a stupid answer.

" Like what? How are things at home?" That's when I knew things were getting serious, this session was about to hit on something emotional.

" Things are well. Nothing's different or off. Still doing my chores, eating my dinners and doing my homework." I wasn't lying.
"How's your social life then? Friends treating you alright?"

" Yeah, friends are treating me well. Not being bullied or anything. School is fine too by the way. My dog's birthday was the other day in case you wanted to know."

I was getting kind of annoyed. I don't know where this conversation was going anymore.

" Finish telling me about that day at the hill when you couldn't stop thinking?"

Why was she going back to the drive?

" I just couldn't stop thinking. I had arrived at the place, sat in the car and watched the sun set and the moon rise. I was listening to music and just thinking, then I went home."

" About what Henry?"

" Life"

" What about life?" She said obscurely.

"How difficult it is to go through it as a teenager. All these emotions and hormones. It sucks"

Wow. I might as well tell her I'm on my period. I sound like a girl complaining about her problems, It feels good. No, no it doesn't. What's wrong with me?

" What do you mean what's wrong with you Henry?"

Oh god, did I just say that out loud?  Now this is really wrong.

" I don't know."

" Henry, can I tell you something?"

" Yeah sure" I was getting more annoyed.

" I know it's hard opening up. Sometimes we don't want people knowing how we feel because we fear judgment and even worse, weakness. But you have to trust me; I'm here to help you. I'm here to guide you through and not judge you. People need people in order to survive and be happy. You can't keep being like this. Open up to me and see how good it feels. If you don't feel better after this session then we can stop."

Well that's a deal. Talk about some bogus feelings and be off the hook after, I can do this.

" Okay then."

" So tell me, what are you scared of?"

" I'm scared of failure."

" What about failure scares you?"

" The disappointing part."

" Disappointing who?"

Really? We're going to play twenty-one questions? I can't keep doing this.

“Disappointing everyone."

" Why do you care about what others think of you?"

" I don't"

" Then why does disappointing others scare you?"

" That's different"

"How so?"

"Because disappointing the ones I love is different than caring about what other people think."

" But if you didn't care about what others think, then disappointing others wouldn't matter because you wouldn't care if you disappoint them."

There was a silence.

" So why do you care about what others think about you?"

" I guess it's because I don't want to seem like something less than what I am."

“Anything less?"

 “Like, I don't know. I just don't like disappointing others because, I just don’t. I, I guess I do care about what people think. I’m scared that if I disappoint them, then they’ll think less of me and I’ll no longer be the person they thought I was but instead, some loser who couldn’t amount to anything.”

My heart started racing. My eyes began feeling heaving and I could no longer control my breathing.

“ I just don’t want to be a somebody. I want to be much more. Everyone makes me up to be this kid who is super smart and talented and I’m scared of giving that up. I don’t want them to think I can’t amount to anything because I failed at something. I feel so much pressure to keep doing what I’m doing.”

Stop. Don’t do this. I’m not about to cry. It felt like word vomit. Feelings spilling everywhere like a glass of milk being spilled on the kitchen tile floor.

“ I feel alone. I feel like if I talk about what’s wrong then people will no longer think I’m that smart kid but instead some whiny teenager and I don’t want that. I don’t want to feel inadequate. I don’t want people to see me as the guy with problems. The moment you tell someone your problems, they automatically remember that every time they see you and I hate that. I don’t want that to be me.”
It was over. Tears were dripping down my face like there was no tomorrow. All these thoughts were racing in my head and it was only making me cry even more.

“ There there, it’s alright. Here’s some tissues, clean yourself up.” She said as she reached over to hand me the box of Kleenex.

“ Well our time is up. I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time. Just remember that you’re not alone and that there is always someone waiting to hear your story. Don’t worry about what they think of you because if they are true friends then they will be by your side no matter what. On the other hand, I’m always here for you as well. I know I’m leaving you all opened up, but that’s good. You just let it all out and need time to process what just happened. It’s all a process. I’m glad you opened up to me Henry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And just like that, the session was over. The next thing I knew I was back home, sitting on my bed looking up at the ceiling thinking about tomorrow. I can’t believe I opened up. I felt better, a little, but better. Maybe this was the start of something new. Maybe. Or maybe this is all some mind game. Which, in that case, I won’t let her win.

title: Just Over The Valley

question: What makes the narrator love his favorite scenic spot outside the city?

answer: Because he can see the whole city from there as well as observe the sunset. It is also secluded place, free of distractions - a place for thinking.

question: What did the narrator (Henry) say he is scared of?

answer: Failure.

question: What was the overriding emotions Henry felt when he got home after his session with the psychologist?

answer: He feels a bit of relief.

question: Did Henry really care what others think of him?

answer: Yes, he does.

question: Write a ~7 sentence summary.

answer: Henry is with his psychologist. He talks about a secluded place outside the city, a place he loves to visit for its view. He says he goes there to think. The psychologist asks him what he thinks about. Henry is reluctant to talk about it. After much prodding, Henry says he is feeling a lot of pressure and scared of failing his loved ones. He says he is afraid most people will find out that he isn't as smart as they think he is.


text:
ALEX HØGH ANDERSEN (born May 20, 1994) is a Danish actor and photographer.[1][2] He is mainly known for the role of Ivar the Boneless in the historical drama television series _Vikings_.[3]

Biography

Born and raised in the town of Slagelse in the western part of Zealand, Andersen discovered his love for acting while studying drama at school. It was there he learned the basics of acting, including the discipline, focus, and teamwork needed to succeed in the business. Andersen participated in many musical oriented plays and was fortunate to gain a lot of experience with many big roles. Like his peers, he began auditioning for film roles. At age 17, Andersen realised the difference between live performances and acting in front of a camera. This encouraged him to pursue Film and Media Studies at the University of Copenhagen.[4]

When he is not acting, Andersen enjoys spending much of his time focusing on photography. Considering himself a visually-minded person, he continues to learn more and more about cameras due to his experience shooting and directing short films. In addition, he learned dancing, singing, sports, fencing and stunts.[5]

Filmography

Film

  Title                                          Year   Role          Notes
  ---------------------------------------------- ------ ------------- ----------------------------
  _Big Hero 6_                                   2014   Hiro Hamada   Voice role; Danish version
  _Ødeland_                                      2015   Jakup         Short film
  _A War_                                        2015   Anders Holm   Also known as _Krigen_
  _Koldt på toppen_                              2017   Himself       Short film
  _How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World_   2019   Eret          Voice role; Danish version
  _Et Bånd Mellem Mennekser_                     2019   Adrian        Short film

Television

  Title                         Year           Role                Notes
  ----------------------------- -------------- ------------------- -------------------------
  _Outsider_                    2012           Victor              Main role; miniseries
  _Tvillingerne & Julemanden_   2013           William Iversen     Main role
  _Hedensted High_              2015           Flotte Tjelle       Episode: “Kantinedamen”
  _Vikings_                     2016–present   Ivar the Boneless   Main role

Theater

  Year   Title                Role               Notes
  ------ -------------------- ------------------ -----------
  2010   _Sværdet i Stenen_   Arthur Pendragon   Main role

[1] https://www.canon.se/nordic-photographers/alex/.

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

title: Alex Høgh Andersen

question: Who is Alex Høgh Andersen?

answer: A Danish actor and photographer. He most famously acted as Ivar the Boneless in the TV series "Vikings".

question: Where is Andersen from?

answer: He was born and raised in the town of Slagelse in western Zealand, where he discovered his love for acting.

question: When did Andersen decide to switch from theater to film?

answer: He realized at 17 the difference between performing live and acting in front of a camera, and decided to pursue Film and Media Studies at the University of Copenhagen.

question: What does Andersen do in his free time?

answer: Andersen likes to focus on photography when he is not acting, as he considers himself a visually-minded person.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: Alex Høgh Andersen is a Danish actor and photographer. He most famously appeared as Ivan the Boneless in "Vikings". Born and raised in Slagelse in western Zealand, where he discovered his loved for acting. He realized when he was 17 that he preferred film to theater, and chose to pursue a career behind the camera, and pursued Film and Media Studies at the University of Copenhagen. In his free time, Andersen focuses on his photography, as he considers himself a visually-minded person.


text:
LAGUNA BLANCA is an ecological and tourist location of Paraguay that comprehends an agricultural and cattle establishment, with a lake that is settled over calcareous sand, fact that makes the water completely transparent and apt for diving.

Location

It is located in San Pedro Department, in the district Santa Rosa del Aguaray, about 28 kilometers east of the city of the same name.

Description

The surface of the lake is about 147 hectares. It is considered by specialists to be the only natural lake of the country, because it does not have a thermostatic stratification, a depth of more than 7 meters or a source of its own. Because the lake is mostly spring-fed (the stream near the resort flows out, not in) its water is pure and drinkable without treatment.

There are private properties and a state reserve next to the lake. The private properties dedicate to agricultural and cattle activities. The state reserve, initially with a surface of 70 hectares, was occupied by rurals and even sold in parts to businessman of the region, so there is left just a small part of the surface that limits with the lake now.

[]

Ecological importance

It has been determined as a priority area for conservation in the Plan Estratégico del Sistema Nacional de Áreas Silvestres Protegidas (SINASIP) (Law 352/94). Nowadays it is in process of being declared Natural Patrimony of Paraguay, with IDEA, Instituto de Desarrollo y Economía Ambiental) as its sponsor. It would be the second natural resource in obtaining this declaration: the first one was the Jejuí River.

This is one of the most studied places by national modern ornithology, due to the presence of great variety of native species of birds. Until this moment have been registered 283 species in Laguna Blanca, which constitutes one of the most representative places of the ecosystem called Cerrado in Paraguay. It is only comparable with San Luis National Park and the Mbaracayú Forest Natural Reserve. The Cerrado in Laguna Blanca is excellent; the remaining forest is relatively speaking still complete and includes a good number of water sources.

For a more complete list of birds and a bit of information about the resort:[1]

About the fish species, there are fishes of small size such as pirañas, tare’yi and a variety of small piky.

According to the Mines and Energy Ministry of Paraguay, as well as the Environment Secretary, the entire area around the lake is area of reload of the Guaraní Aquifer, because the permeable soil allows filtering and feed the water reserve of this aquifer with the rain waters.

A Quick Ecological Evaluation was made of the place, concerning the age and kind of soil in the place, and also the fauna and flora, which are very interesting, with species such as the mboi yaguá (eunecters murinus) and drosera (a carnivorous plant). This study is in hands of the Natural Land Trust, entity that is working in the technical justification for the declaration of private reserve.

In addition, the organization Para la Tierra houses science interns who study the ecology of the region, particularly the animals. Contact them for further details.

Tourism

[Kayac en el muelle] In Laguna Blanca Ranch, property of Duarte family since 1997, rural tourism started to develop. The Laguna Blanca Ranch has been a member of APATUR (Asociación Paraguaya de Turismo Rural) since its foundation and develops interesting activities for tourists. Nowadays Laguna Blanca in the process of being declared a Private Natural Reserve with the support of nongovernmental organizations, the Paraguayan Network of Private Land Preservation, the special support of IDEA, Natural Land Trust and Guyrá Paraguay.

The publishing of the discoveries made in this beautiful place in Paraguay has given it an international status that attracted a great number of scientists and tourists in the latest years. The place has been declared internationally “Important Bird Area”, and assigned the code PY030 Laguna Blanca. The IBA’s international program is created by Birdlife International, a lieder organization in the world in the knowledge of birds and their preservation. Guyra Paraguay is their representing in Paraguay.

Activities for the visitors

There are many activities for visitors. Both camping sites and inns are available. Activities include outings, sports such as beach volleyball and soccer, horse rides, sailing boats and kayaks, underwater swimming, fishing, photographic safari, nautical sports and a stroll in the dunes.

Only activities that would not endanger the natural environment are allowed to be practiced and the activities that require specific professional guidance have to be booked previously.

Services

[Transparent water of Laguna Blanca] The place has a camping area with capacity for about 40 families, besides rustic inns that offer breakfast, lunch and dinner, with special emphasis in Paraguayan traditional foods.

Longer-term stays for science interns and volunteers can be arranged at Para la Tierra.

How to get to Laguna Blanca

The Laguna Blanca Ranch is in the northeast side of the San Pedro Department. From Asunción, the access is taking the North Access Route towards Arroyos y Esteros, then taking Route No. 3 and following until the crossroad Santa Rosa del Aguaray (270 kilometers from Asunción) and from there taking a 27 kilometers long pebbled road towards East. In dry weather the trip can be made in car; otherwise it should be made in high-clearance vehicles. There are also buses that go from Asunción to San Pedro or Pedro Juan Caballero that can take to Laguna Blanca, reaching Santa Rosa take another bus that goes to Santa Bárara (this bus is not of much circulation and it is not recommended to go on bus to the Ranch if had been done previously).

[1] http://www.birdingsiteguide.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=42&Itemid=54

title: Laguna Blanca (Paraguay)

question: What does the text say about the importance of Laguna Blanca in Paraguay?

answer: The surface size of Laguna Blanca is about 147 hectares and is the only natural lake of Paraguay. It is being declared Natural Patrimony of Paraguay and is a priority area for conservation by law. Due to its great variety of native bird species, it is one of the most studied places. The laguna's forest includes a number of water sources and the soil around the lake allows for filtering rain waters that go into the Guarani Aquifer reserve.


text:
_ANOPLODESMUS SAUSSURII_, is a species of millipedes in the family Paradoxosomatidae. It was once thought endemic to Sri Lanka, but later found from Fiji and Mauritius.[1] [2]

Description

It is about 21–33 mm in length. Adults are shiny dark brown to black in color. They are much largely aggregated species that can be found undercover of decaying litter layers in the agricultural and horticultural land areas and forests on humid soils. Mainly herbivores, they are known to eat any decaying and rotting leaves and vegetable parts, and even wood, decaying fish, and cow dung. After 20 to 25 days of copulation, female laid 200 to 400 eggs in earthen nests. One female may lay 2 to 4 times of egg masses in her lifetime. After seven moultings, stadia come out to surface after the onset of the rainy season.[3] another name for these millipede, is the "almond scented millipede, as it secretes hydrogen cyanide when threatened, which is mild in toxicity and harmless to humans, however this feature decreases the number of predators it has in the wild as predators such as birds that consume it will die after consuming them.

[1]

[2]

[3]

title: Anoplodesmus saussurii

question: Where are Anoplodesmus Saussurii found?

answer: They can be found in Sri Lanka, Fiji, and Mauritius.

question: What do they feed on?

answer: They feed on any decaying and rotting leaves, vegetable parts, wood, fish, and cow dung.

question: How many times can a female lay eggs in a lifetime?

answer: A female can lay eggs 2 to 4 times in a lifetime.

question: How many eggs does a female lay at a time?

answer: At a time, a female lays 200 to 400 eggs.

question: Write a ~7 sentence summary.

answer:
Anoplodesmus Saussurii is a species of millipedes. They are found in Sri Lanka, Fiji, and Mauritius. The millipedes are dark brown or black in color and about 33 mm in length.

They feed on decaying and rotting vegetable parts, leaves, cow dung, fish and even wood. A female lays 200 to 400 eggs at a time. The eggs hatch after the onset of the rainy season.

These millipedes are also known as the "almond-scented millipede" as they secrete hydrogen cyanide when threatened, which is harmless to humans to can kill birds if consumed.


text:
[IIM Jammu]

INDIAN INSTITUTE OF MANAGEMENT JAMMU (IIM JAMMU) is a public, autonomous business school located in Jammu, Jammu & Kashmir, India. Established in 2016, it is, as of 2019, the latest Indian Institute of Management to be established. Prof. B. S. Sahay is the Founder Director of IIM Jammu. IIM Jammu is currently offering Master of Business Administration (MBA) and Doctor of Business Administration (DBA) in Management as per Indian Institutes of Management Act 2017. The student intake is 140 for Masters of Business Administration (MBA) programme for the year 2019.

Background

IIM Jammu is the 20th Indian Institute of Management established by the Ministry of Human Resource Development. It was established with the approval of the Union Cabinet, chaired by the Prime Minister Narendra Modi on 13 October 2016.

Board of Governors

The Board of Governors (BoG) govern the administration and working of IIM Jammu. The chairperson of BoG is Mr. Milind Prahlad Kamble, Padma Shree awardee, Chairman and Managing Director of MPK Group of Companies and Founder of Dalit Indian Chamber of Commerce & Industry (DICCI). IIM Jammu is governed by Board of Governors composed of eleven eminent educationists and administrators namely: Mr. Sanjay Kumar Sinha (Joint Secretary Management, Ministry of Human Resource Development, Government of India), Ms. Anita Bhogle (Prosearch Consultants, Mumbai), Mr. Talat Parvez Rohella (Commissioner  Secretary, Higher Education Department, Government of Jammu & Kashmir), Mr. Anand Kripalu (Managing Director, Chief Executive Officer and Member Diageo Global Executive Committee, Mumbai), Mr. Mukund Walvekar (Ex. Managing Director & Chief Executive Officer, Acer Ltd., Bengaluru), Mr. Ranjit Singh (Executive Managing Director, Kalpataru Power Transmission Ltd., Noida), Dr. Shalini Lal (Founder Infinity OD, New Delhi), Mr. Lalit Kumar Shantaram Naik (Director, Noveltech Feeds Private Ltd., Mumbai), Mr. Vijay Gambhire (Managing Director & Chief Executive Officer, CEAT Specialty Tyres Ltd.) and Prof. B. S. Sahay (Director, IIM Jammu) [1]

Campus

IIM Jammu is constructing its permanent campus in 200 acres of land in Jagti situated 18 kilometres away from Jammu Airport.[2] The permanent campus will offer technologically advanced classrooms, hostels, faculty residence and state of the art infrastructure. Further, IIM Jammu is setting up an Off-Campus Centre at Srinagar.[3]

Academics

IIM Jammu is currently offering Masters in Business Administration (MBA), Doctor of Business Administration (DBA) in Management, Executive Education programme and Faculty Development Programme.[4] The MBA programme spans over six trimesters spread over the two years. The fundamental courses that  lay the premises for various management roles are covered in the first year. Between the first and second year, students undertake an eight-week summer internship. In the second year, students pursue elective courses from Marketing, Business Policy and Strategy, Finance, Operations Management, Human Resource Management and Organization Behaviour area.  The student intake for 2019–2020 year is 140 which will progressively go up to a cumulative student strength of 200 in the 4th year.[5]

Campus Life

There are many student-run clubs and committee at IIM Jammu. The student-run clubs and committees are governed by Student Affairs Council. The student-run clubs and committee organizes events throughout the year.[6]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

title: Indian Institute of Management Jammu

question: When was the Indian Institute of Management Jammu established?

answer: In 2016.

question: Does it have a campus.

answer: At the time of the article, a permanent campus was being constructed in Jagti.

question: What programs does the IIM Jammu offer?

answer: Master of Business Administration (MBA) and Doctor of Business Administration (DBA) in Management.

question: How many people are there in the Board of Governors?

answer: Eleven.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The text is about the Indian Institute of Management Jammu (IIM Jammu), a business school that offers MBA and DBA in Management. It describes the school's foundation, its background, programs, administration, campus life and such.


text:
By Amelia Robinson

GINGER AND SPICE ASIAN BISTRO

Address: 1105 Brown St., Dayton

Hours: 11 a.m. and 9 p.m. Monday to Saturday

Online: Facebook

Call: (937) 716-1298

Local “Asian-style” restaurants had better watch their backs.

There is a new kid in town with a chef with tons of experiences and fresh ingredients in her kitchen.

The phrase “local farm-raised” is repeated over and over again on the menu at Ginger & Spice, the new Asian bistro at 1105 Brown St. Straight out of the gate, it is in the running for the _best Asian food in town award._

A lot of restaurants promise fresh ingredients. You can taste and see the freshness on Ginger & Spice’s plates… _seriously._

Ginger & Spice is owned by Grace Peng. who formerly operated Tsao’s Cuisine near Wright State University in Fairborn. Ginger & Spice’s lively dishes are created by Anne Tsao, the founding Tsao Cuisine.

According to Dayton Daily News writer Mark Fisher, Tsao’s career began at the age of 12 in Taiwan. She worked her way up to the kitchens of high-level hotels there before coming to the United States in 1989. Tsao cooked in Asian restaurants in Indianapolis before moving to the Dayton area to join Steve Kao’s. That now-defunct Miami Twp. Chinese restaurant was around in the 1990s.

Ginger & Spice is a stone’s throw from the University of Dayton.

Its clean décor, friendly staff (Peng worked the house on both of our recent trips there) and delicious food are already appealing to college students, the business lunch crowd and those looking for something different for dinner.

But enough of the small talk. Let’s get to the grub.

Shrimp hand rolls — two for $4

[New restaurant could be best Asian food in town , item 1]

Super fresh and plump shrimp in a yumtastic thin rice skin with lettuce, cucumber and rice noodles. It comes with a peanut sauce.

Pan-seared hand-wrapped pot stickers — six for $6

[New restaurant could be best Asian food in town , item 2]

These are a staff recommendation for a reason. The ground pork pot stickers can be either steamed or pan seared. They take up to 20 minutes to make, but are worth the wait.

Ginger & Spice Wontons — eight for $6

[New restaurant could be best Asian food in town , item 3]

These are far from the tasteless balls of nothing that typically come in wonton soup. The handmade wontons are stuffed with ground pork and served in a sweet and spicy sauce that will kill you cuz it is so good. Trust me, you’ll want to keep that sauce.

Pork Belly with King Oyster Mushroom — $8

[New restaurant could be best Asian food in town , item 4]

The mushrooms and crisp carrots nearly steal the show from the pork belly in this crazy satisfying dish in a spicy bean sauce.

Mala Beef — $9

[New restaurant could be best Asian food in town , item 5]

A healthy portion of beef and tons of garlic, mushrooms, scallions and jalapenos.

The special — $12

[New restaurant could be best Asian food in town , item 6]

It is easy to fall into the trap of ordering the same thing over and over again. Try the special at Ginger & Spice. This one was loaded with scrimp, tofu, broccoli and other veggies for $12.

Contact this blogger at amelia.robinson@coxinc.com or Twitter.com/DDNSmartMouth

question: What does the text say about Grace Peng?

answer: Grace Peng is the owner of Ginger & Spice. She formerly operated Tsao's Cuisine near Wright State University in Fairborn. The author describes her as part of the restaurant's friendly staff and notes that she was working the house during both of their recent visits.


text:
The Senate Subcommittee on Primary Health and Aging held a hearing Tuesday on “what the U.S. health care system can learn from other countries,” where single-payer health care was discussed. And The Los Angeles Times’ Michael Hiltzik caught an exchange between Sen. Richard Burr (R-NC) and Danielle Martin, a Canadian physician and health policy professor.

Burr came at Martin with a number of questions, pointed questions. But Martin had answers. Hiltzik highlighted some key moments.

“Dr. Martin, in your testimony you note that Canadian doctors exiting the public system for the private sector has had the effect of increasing waiting lists for patients seeking public health care,” Burr said. “Why are doctors exiting the public system in Canada?”

“Thank you for your question, senator,” Martin said. “If I didn’t express myself in a way to make myself understood, I apologize. There are no doctors exiting the public system in Canada, and in fact we see a net influx of physicians from the United States into the Canadian system over the last number of years.”

Later on, Burr asked Martin: “On average, how many Canadian patients on a waiting list die each year? Do you know?”

“I don’t, sir, but I know that there are 45,000 in America who die waiting because they don’t have insurance at all,” Martin said.

You can watch the whole hearing here (the Burr/Martin exchange begins around 1:00):

question: What was the hearing about?

answer: The hearing was about what the U.S. health care system can learn from other countries.

question: Micheal Hiltzik caught an exchange between whom?

answer: Micheal Hiltzik caught an exchange between Sen. Richard Burr and Danielle Martin, a Canadian physician and health policy professor.

question: Are Canadian doctors exiting the public health system?

answer: No.

question: How many patients on a waiting list die each year in the U.S.?

answer: This information can't be found.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer:
During a hearing on "what the U.S. healthcare system can learn from other countries," Micheal Hiltzik catches an exchange between Sen. Richard Burr and Danielle Martin, a Canadian physician.

The senator questions Martin why the Canadian doctors were exiting the public health system to which, Martin clarifies that there is actually an influx of physicians from the U.S. into the Canadian system. Martin also states that there are 45,000 patients in America who die waiting because they don't have insurance at all.


text:
ASHBURNHAM and PENHURST are civil parishes in the Rother district of the local government county of East Sussex, England, within historic Sussex, situated to the west of Battle. The two parishes share a joint parish council which also covers the settlements of Brownbread Street, Ponts Green and Ashburnham Forge. Neither of the parishes have many dwellings, Ashburnham having a population of 303, whilst Penhurst has just 52 inhabitants.[1]

Governance

At a local level, Ashburnham and Penhurst are governed by a joint parish council which is responsible for street lighting, allotments and recreational areas. They provide a local voice to the district and county councils. The parish council consists of seven councillors, split into two wards: five councillors from Ashburnham ward and two from Penshurst ward.[2] The May 2007 election had six candidates standing in the Ashburnham ward.[3] The Penshurst ward was uncontested.

Rother District council provides the next level of government with services such as refuse collection, planning consent, leisure amenities and council tax collection. Ashburnham and Penhurst are within the Crowhurst ward, along with the parishes of Catsfield, Crowhurst, and part of Battle. In the May 2007 election Crowhurst ward was won by the Conservative candidate.[4]

East Sussex county council is the third tier of government, providing education, libraries and highway maintenance. Ashburnham and Penhurst falls within the Battle and Crowhurst ward. Kathryn Margaret Field, Liberal Democrat, was elected in the May 2005 election with 48.8% of the vote.[5]

The UK Parliament constituency for Ashburnham and Penhurst is Bexhill and Battle. Gregory Barker was re-elected in the May 2005 election.

At European level, Ashburnham and Penhurst are represented by the South-East region, which holds ten seats in the European Parliament. The June 2004 election returned four Conservatives, two Liberal Democrats, two UK Independence, one Labour and one Green, none of whom live in East Sussex.[6]

Ashburnham

In 1086, Ashburnham was known as _Esseborne_, a settlement in the ancient hundred of Foxearle.[7] Ashburnham takes its contemporary name from Ashburnham Place, a country house built by the Ashburnham family (now a Christian conference and prayer centre), a name which derived from the local stream named the _Ashbourne_. The 14th-century parish church, dedicated to St Peter, was rebuilt in 1665. The village was in the iron making district of the Weald, and its blast furnace was, in 1813, the last in Sussex to be closed.

Until 2006, Ashburnham was the home of musician James “Tate” Arguile, guitarist in the alternative band Mumm-Ra.

Penhurst

PENHURST is a village located on the Weald, four miles (7 km) west of Battle. In 1086, Penhurst was in the hundred of Hailesaltede; the Abbey of Battle was its tenant-in-chief.[8]

Penhurst Manor is now a Christian retreat centre and is used much in the support of missionaries from overseas.

The 14th-century parish church is dedicated to St Michael the Archangel. The actor Harry H. Corbett (1925–82) lies buried in the rear churchyard. His daughter Susannah lives in Ashburnham.

Landscape

Ashburnham and Penhurst are located in the heart of the Sussex Weald within the designated High Weald Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty.

Landmarks

Ashburnham Park falls within the area and is a Site of Special Scientific Interest. It comprises ancient woodland and medieval deer park, containing a wide spread of flora and avian fauna.[9] Part of the park lies in the neighbouring Catsfield parish.

Several features of the old iron industry can be found along the track from the hamlet of Ashburnham Forge up to the furnace site near Lakehouse Road.[10]

[1] Census 2001

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7] Open Domesday: Ashburnham, Sussex. Accessed September 2020.

[8] Open Domesday: Penhurst. Accessed September 2020.

[9]

[10] Pearce, H, _Hammer and Furnace Ponds_, Pomegranate Press, 2011

title: Ashburnham and Penhurst

question: What are Ashburnham and Penhurst?

answer: Ashburnham and Penhurst are civil parishes in the Rother district of East Sussex, England, within historic Sussex, situated to the west of Battle. The two parishes share a joint council. Ashburnham has a population of 303, while Penhurst has 52 inhabitants.

question: How are Ashburnham and Penhurst governed?

answer: The two towns are governed by a joint parish council which is responsible for street lighting, allotments, and recreational areas. Rother district council provides the next level of government. This is followed by East Sussex council. The UK parliament constituency is Bexhill and Battle. At the time of the writing, Ashburnham and Penhurst were represented by the South-East region in the European parliament.

question: What is the history of Ashburnham?

answer: Originally Ashburnham was called Esseborne, and it was in the ancient hundred of Foxearle. Ashburnham takes its name from a house built by the Ashburnham family, which comes from the loval stream Ashbourne. The Church in the city is dedicated to Saint Peter and was built in the 14th century. The village was also in the iron making district of the Weald.

question: What is the history of Penhurst?

answer: Penhurst is located in the Weald. In 1086 Penhurst was in the hundred of Hailesaltede. The Abbey of Battle was its tenant in chief. Penhurst Manor is now a Christian retreat. The 14th century church is dedicated to Michael the archangel.