text:
    It was perhaps a sad thing to say that Sam was used to his friends dying. He has grown to know people who met unfortunate ends, like the man who seized in two inches of water while running a bath for his kid. He had not had that much to drink, but Sam patiently answered the questions of police officers who asked him how many beers he had drank that day and how long the man had been face down in the tub before he was found.

    “Listen, I just thought he got caught up in the bathroom or something. The water stopped running and he didn’t ask me to get him another beer or say anything for a while,” he said. “And then I see him face down in the tub and thought that I should probably call 911.” He rubs his hand over the smooth surface of his scalp and tries to smile through a grimace as he looks at me. I am younger and he thinks that I have not seen death.

    A year later the man handed the phone to another friend before leaving the scene of another death in the morning. “Listen, I’m not doing this again,” He said to the woman. A blue-lipped man who seemed to be asleep in the recliner in the corner, now absent of his lover, a half-awake woman across the room with shivers.  “I saw him and said, ‘oh, I think he’s dead’ and I left because I just didn’t want to talk to the police again. I just wanted to leave and they made me stay to answer all these questions.”

    His eyes dart in different directions and he finally stands from the squat he was pressing on the floor with his knees. He speaks as if he doesn’t understand how they could have had questions. “I had to wait while they spoke to me and to his mom and then to me again.” He watches me as I rise to meet him and shrugs more words off of his shoulders. His fingers dig into the coarse forest of his beard, which is still ginger despite his age.

    His eyes are bright and endearing. If he had not told us that he’d been in college when we all were born, we would not have thought it. “I did glass blowing but you know the economy—no one wants that anymore.” His clothes are always clean and fashionable; he has a penchant for what is unspoiled. His hands are not ragged despite years of making art. He has no tattoos and he is always impeccably groomed. “I think they’re cool, but they’re just not for me.” He tells me this because I mention that the design on his shirt is almost like the tattoo on my back. His glasses are never smudged and he owns his own bowling shoes. We invite him out with us and he says that he would love to come, especially if each beer is only a dollar like we tell him it is on Wednesday nights.

    In class, he holds a ten-for-a-dollar pen in one hand and a bright yellow highlighter clutched in the other. He leans forward on his elbows every class and we can tell that he wants to know; he sits on the edge of his seat. We tell him that we can help him study if he needs it and we know he does because of the expressions that cross his normally un-lined face when he receives his test grades. He asks if we have started the research paper and we say no. “I haven’t either,” and he sighs. Sam does not ask for help.

    Sam tells me that he shaves his head because after his hair began to grow again it was black and curly and he didn’t feel like himself, but I can see that his arms have grown strong like tree roots from the time between his last chemo treatment and now and I think that it must be nice. It must be nice to watch your body transform into something so strong. We all wonder how often Sam must shave his head because there is never a sprinkling of hair there. “I did the whole cancer thing when I was younger,” he said casually to an entire class full of strangers. We wondered if the reason his head was so smooth was because he was not finished with it yet.

    I tell him later, “I know that’s awful,” when he mentions to me what it was like to be sick all of the time. “It was awful for me and I wasn’t even the one going through chemotherapy.” He looks at me with what I think are knowing eyes and I would like to hold his hand. For just a second. He watches as I read the grotesque book in my hands that speaks about disease and squints every now and then. He watches as I stifle retch after gag. It is just a book.

    “What kind of coffee is that?” He asks during the first week of classes before I know him. I tell him that it is awful coffee, but it is just the regular black shit that is cheap and caffeinated. He nods when I say, “I hear that flavored coffees have a few of the same ingredients as a cigarette, but I smoke anyway, so I guess it doesn’t matter.” He takes the fedora from his head and places it gently on the notebook because then the professor enters the room. When he turns in his seat to look at me beside him, we are eye-level.  When he leans on his elbows, his body inching further from the blank white wall behind him, it is like he is taller. Sometimes on nice days, we expect him to sprout wings into that space and fly into the heavens, past the fluorescent hallway lights and into the unspoiled, cloudless sky.

title: Azrael

question: Why won't Sam allow them to help him with his studies?

answer: They can see that he needs their assistance but appears that he is fiercely independent.

question: Why is Sam's head hairless?

answer: He says that he shaves his head because the hair comes out black and curly and he doesn't like it, but his friends wonder if he is still undergoing chemo?

question: Why does the narrator stifle a gag?

answer: The narrator was close to someone who had to go for chemo, as they discuss Sam's chemo the narrator looks down at the gross book about disease.

question: Why do Sam's friends expect him to sprout wings and fly off into the ether?

answer: Perhaps because he is such a good and likeable person or perhaps because they believe that he is ill and will one day leave them.

question: Write a ~7 sentence summary.

answer:
Sam was used to his friends dying. Sam is telling the story of how this happened. He is bright and endearing and unless he had told them that he had been in college when they were born, they would have thought him much younger.
He’s in college with them now and battling but Sam doesn’t ask for help.
Sam is recovering from chemo. He keeps his head shaved but he’s growing stronger. Sometimes they expect him to sprout wings and fly into the ether.


split: train

text:
-   Nov. 20, 2012
-

MIAMI — Representative Allen B. West will leave Congress much as he arrived two years ago: combative, blunt and the standard-bearer for Tea Party supporters who urged him to shake up government.

After nearly two weeks of legal and electoral jousting, Mr. West, 51, conceded on Tuesday to his Democratic challenger in the Nov. 6 election, Patrick Murphy, a political newcomer from South Florida. Mr. Murphy, 29, won the race, in St. Lucie, Martin and northern Palm Beach Counties, by 1,904 ballots, or 0.58 percent of the vote.

“While a contest of the election results might have changed the vote totals, we do not have evidence that the outcome would change,” Mr. West said in a statement on Tuesday morning. “Given the extremely high evidentiary hurdles involved in a successful challenge, I will not ask my generous supporters to help fund a drawn-out, expensive legal effort with little chance of success.”

In an election season rife with bitter, expensive races across the nation, the contest between Mr. West, a retired Army lieutenant colonel and a prodigious fund-raiser, and Mr. Murphy, a construction company official, was among the fiercest and most expensive. The rivals ran explosive political advertisements calling into question each other’s moral character and exchanged cutting words on the campaign trail.

Mr. West, who as one of the Democrats’ chief antagonists was a high-priority target for the party, faced a tough re-election challenge from the outset. Rather than run in his original district after its new boundaries made it inhospitable to conservative Republicans, he chose a new district just slightly to the north.

As beloved by his Tea Party devotees as Mr. West was, the voters in the new district proved less enamored of his brawling speaking style and his conservative views.

Among Mr. West’s most notable pronouncements were these: an accusation that as many as 80 House Democrats are Communists, a reference to President Obama as “probably the dumbest person walking around in America right now,” and a comment that Obama supporters with bumper stickers are “a threat to the gene pool.”

Capitalizing on those words and his opponent’s views, Mr. Murphy repeatedly told voters that Mr. West was too extreme and divisive for the area.

Mr. West, in turn, parried that Mr. Murphy was a Democratic puppet who relied on his father’s wealth and connections to get ahead. Mr. Murphy’s father owns the Coastal Construction Group, a large construction company in Miami.

In the end, Mr. Murphy won — barely.

Making it official proved difficult, however. Mr. Murphy declared victory soon after the election, but Mr. West, citing what he said were electoral irregularities, did not concede. Because Mr. Murphy’s margin was greater than 0.50 percent, there was no automatic recount. So Mr. West went to court to press for a full recount of early votes in St. Lucie County, where officials had acknowledged irregularities but said only a partial recount was necessary. His request was rejected.

But his lawyers discovered errors in vote tabulations. Some precincts in the county had tallied more votes than appeared to have been cast. It appeared others had not counted all the votes. On Friday, St. Lucie County’s canvassing board ordered a full recount of all 37,379 early votes.

The tally, completed Sunday, found that Mr. West still trailed Mr. Murphy.

Once again, Mr. Murphy declared victory. And once again, Mr. West did not concede, saying he needed to consider his options. The next evening, Mr. West huddled with his lawyers and concluded that there was no way he could win.

Mr. Murphy, the vice president of a Coastal Construction company that specializes in disaster relief and environmental cleanup, said he was “humbled” by his victory and the opportunity to speak for the people in the 18th Congressional District. He called Mr. West’s concession “gracious.”

“To those who supported my opponent, my door is open, and I want to hear your voice,” Mr. Murphy said. “I campaigned on a message of reaching across the aisle to get things done for the people of the Treasure Coast and Palm Beaches.”

Appearing on Fox News on Tuesday, Mr. West was asked whether he would consider another run for the House. He did not rule it out.

“Right now,” he said, only “God knows the plans for my life.”

question: Summarize all the information relating to Allen B. West.

answer: Allen B. West is 51 years old. He is a Republican. He was in Congress for 2 years before losing to Patrick Murphy. He is combative, blunt and the standard-bearer for the Tea Party, his supporters urged him to shake up government. He is a retired lieutenant colonel and a prodigious fund-raiser. He faced a tough re-election challenge because he was one the Democrats' chief antagonists. He chose a new district after his previous district became inhospitable to Republicans. His new district did not like his brawling speaking style and conservative views. He parried that Mr. Murphy was a Democratic puppet who relied on his father's wealth and connections to get ahead.

question: Summarize all the information relating to Patrick Murphy.

answer: Patrick Murphy is a political newcomer from South Florida. He is 29 years old. He is a Democrat that won an election against Republican Allen B. West with a 0.58% margin. He is a construction company official. He took Allen B. West's contentious pronouncements and repeatedly told voters that Mr. West was too extreme and divisive for the area. Patrick Murphy's father owns the Coastal Construction Group, a large construction company in Miami.

question: How did Allen B. West intend to shake up government?

answer: He was one of the Democrats' chief antagonists and he was a high priority target for the party. He made pronouncements that include an accusation that as many as 80 Democrats are Communists, a reference to President Obama as "probably the dumbest person walking around in America right now" and a comment that Obama supporters with bumper stickers "are a threat to the gene pool".

question: What is Allen B. West's relationship with Patrick Murphy?

answer: They ran against each other as a representative of the 18th Congressional District. Patrick Murphy won the election by a margin of 0.58% of the vote. After two weeks of legal battles, Allen B. West conceded defeat.

question: What is Patrick Murphy's relationship with construction companies?

answer: Mr. Murphy is the vice president of Coastal Construction company that specializes in disaster relief and environmental cleanup. His father owns this company, a large construction company in Miami.

question: Explain the legal and electoral jousting that took place after the election.

answer: Mr. Murphy declared victory shortly after the election. Mr. West cited electoral irregularities and did not concede. Mr. Murphy's margin was greater than 0.5%, there was no automatic recount. Mr. West went to court for a full recount of early votes in St. Lucie County. Officials in this County acknowledged irregularities but said that only a partial recount was necessary. West's request was rejected. Then his lawyers discovered errors in vote tabulations - some precincts tallied more votes than appeared to have been cast and others had not counted all the votes. After the corrections were made, Mr. West still tailed Mr. Murphy. Mr. Murphy declared victory again. Mr. West did not concede. The next evening he and his lawyers concluded that there was no way that he could win. Then he conceded.

question: Will Allen B. West consider another run for the House?

answer: It is unclear from his answer.

question: Write a ~6 sentence summary.

answer: Allen B. West lost his seat in the House to Democratic challenger Patrick Murphy. West made contentious remarks that made him a target. Murphy used to great effect in his campaign. Murphy won by 0.58% and West conceded defeat after exhausting all reasonable options. He is unsure is he will run for House again.


text:
There it was: the biggest Kjrussich that J'nah had ever seen. Blood dripped from it's front fangs as it sat on it's haunches, gnawing at the bones of one of J'nah's family's livestock.

His father had warned him not to go looking for the beast, but J'nah couldn't stand watching as his family farm was slowly ravaged by the beast, each night taking more livestock and leaving less and less for his family to sell come market time.
He had come prepared, carrying the large spear he had fashioned out of Bondwood and  Jettite, and a pouch full of throwing stones hung at his side. Following the beast's tracks in the freshly fallen methane snow had led J'nah right to the beast's lair among the craggy outcroppings in the valley below the pastures.

Crouched in the shrubs, he watched and waited for the right moment to strike. He knew that his spear must strike where the Kjrussich's four shoulder blades bet, at the point on it's back just before the spinal spikes began. Off in the distance, a hazy orange glow meant a dust storm was on it's way.
The beast turned away, reaching for another tasty bite. It's back was toward him-- now was the perfect time to strike. Wiping the sweat from his scaly forehead, J'nah crept forward, his padded footclaws silent on the snow.

The beast stopped eating and sniffed the air with a fierce sound. Before J'nah could plunge his spear into the vital spot, the Kjrussich spun around, snarling with all fangs bared, blood dripping. It meant to defend its lair at any cost.
In his lessons at the younglings' council, J'nah had learned well the legends of brave heroes who would go off to battle and slay monsters courageously. He had always hoped that when the time came for him to earn his surname, his actions would make him known as "Foeslayer" or "J'nah the Bold", like the warriors of old. At that moment, he thought it was more likely to be "J'nah the Swift Coward."

The Krjussich lunged at him, and J'nah leapt to the side, stumbling on top of a snow frosted boulder. With a dreadful howl, the beast whipped around and spat a dart at the youth. He felt the sting as it lodged in his arm. The paralyzing numbness kicked in almost immediately, rendering his spear arm as limp as his grandmother's home-cooked  Bessintaa Noodles. His spear fell to the ground. The Kjrussich howled and raised all four arms in a threatening display. J'nah found himself against the wall of the outcropping, trapped.

Just overhead, a spark of flame illuminated the sky. Something seemed to be soaring down through the atmosphere towards him and the beast at incredible speed. In a second, the object was upon them: a great metal ball, firing jets of flame downwards. It was all J'nah could do to shield his eyes from the incredible could of dust that arose as the thing lowered itself slowly upon it's pillars of flame. He heard another terrifying howl, from the Kjrussich, but felt to fangs or claws.

He opened his eyes as the dust began to recede. The metal thing had burnt the beast to a shouldering crisp with it's jets of flame, and landed on top of the charred remains. J'nah reached forward to grab his spear with his good arm. The thing made no further movements, just sitting there like some sort of strange sky rock. It's body shone brighter and looked sturdier than forged Jettite, except for one spot: a huge glass eye. It seemed to be staring straight at him.

There was no way to know what this thing was, but judging from the way it destroyed the Kjrussich, it was nothing friendly. J'nah thrust his spear through the glass eye and felt it shatter with a satisfying crunch. He didn't stop to make sure he had killed it, instead seizing the chance to run home as quickly as his legs could carry him. The dust storm beg and to whip into a frenzy just as he reached the door. He knew that by the next morning, the metal thing and the remains of the Kjrussich would be buried beneath the ever shifting sand and snow. His father would be proud of him, though. He knew that on this day, he had earned his surname: "J'nah Spear-Arm".

At mission control in Houston, TX, all the status indicators on Harvey Bridges' screen went offline. He cursed. The tense, silent atmosphere in the room as Titan Lander Darwin 1 entered the atmosphere of Saturn's largest moon would be broken with disappointment.

"No status report," he announced, "Looks like the probe must have disintegrated as it went through Titan's atmosphere. Show's over, folks."

title: Hunt (Sci-Fi short story, 797 words)

question: Summarize all the information relating to the Kjrussich.

answer: It hunts livestock and eats it while sitting on its haunches. The Kjrussich eats livestock every night and has a lair on a rocky outcrop. To kill the Kjrussich you have to strike a spear where the beast's four shoulder blades come together just before the spianl spikes begin. The Kjrussich can spit darts that paralyzes the target. The Kjrussich has 4 arms.

question: What is the relationship between J'nah and Harvey Bridges?

answer: J'nah killed the probe that Harvey Bridges sent as it was entering Titan's atmosphere.

question: Explain what the text means by the probe disintegrated as it went through Titan's atmosphere.

answer: The best information Harvey Bridges has is that the probe disintegrated as it went through the atmosphere. In reality it was killed by J'nah to defend his father's farm.

question: Explain why J'nah was hunting the Kjrussich.

answer: The Kjrussich was eating J'nah's father livestock. This livestock that was preyed had a direct impact on their livelihood because it could not be sold at the market. J'nah also had to earn his surname by doing a brave deed.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: J'nah is hunting a Kjrussich that is eating his father's livestock. A probe sent by Harvey Bridges from earth comes through Titan's atmosphere and destroys the Kjrussich. J'nah then destroys the probe because he sees it as a possible threat.


text:
[Texas Jack Jr.][Advertisement for the Texas Jack Wild West show, Graham's Town, South Africa, 23 July 1898.] TEXAS JACK JR., (c. 1860 – 1905), who adopted the name of his rescuer Texas Jack Omohundro, is best known for running a Wild West show and circus where he gave Will Rogers his start as an entertainer.[1]

Background

Not long after the American Civil War, while driving a herd of cattle to northern markets, Texas Jack Omohundro found two small girls and a five-year-old boy who had been orphaned when their parents were killed by Native Americans. Omohundro escorted the children to safety, and provided for their care. The boy took to calling himself Texas Jack Jr.[2] Texas Jack Jr. related his story to the family of Texas Jack Omohundro after that man's death, receiving their blessing to use his name in show business.

Wild west show

[Texas Jack Jr. show Advertising poster]Texas Jack was a sharpshooter and trick rider in shows around the world, especially South Africa. By 1899 he was in England with a show called “Savage South Africa”. The show included a historical re-enactment of the 1893 Shangani Patrol, a last stand of 34 white soldiers against an overwhelming number of Ndebele warriors, with Jack starring as Frederick Russell Burnham, the American chief of scouts who was one of only three survivors of the battle.[3] The re-enactment was filmed and released as a war movie entitled _Major Wilson's Last Stand_ that same year.[4] A couple of years later he returned to South Africa and started “Texas Jack's Wild West Show & Circus”.

Hires Will Rogers

In 1902, Will Rogers approached Jack, hoping to get a job wrangling the tents or the horses, but when Jack asked him if he could do a rope trick, Rogers obliged and was hired as an entertainer.[5]

Death

Jack died in Kroonstad, South Africa, in 1905.[6] He was survived by his common law wife, Lyle (or Lil) Marr, who was also a sharpshooter in his show.

[1]

[2] Note: He dropped the 'Junior' suffix in later years, after Omohundro's death (1880).

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

title: Texas Jack Jr.

question: What is Texas Jack Jr. known for?

answer: He is best known for running a Wild West show and circus, which is where he gave Will Rogers his start as an entertainer. `

question: Who is Frederick Russel Burnham?

answer: Frederick Russell Burnham was one an American chief of scouts who was part of the 1893 Shangani Patrol. He was one of the only three survivors of the battle between the patrol and Ndebele warriors.

question: When did Jack die?

answer: H died in 1905.

question: Who is Will Rogers?

answer: Will Rogers was an entertainer who was hired as an entertainer for Jack.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: Texas Jack Jr. was an entertainer best known for running a Wild West show.


text:
I wrote this story for a school competition, and I ended up being one of the winners, just wanted to share it with you guys! It's about a German soldier from WWI. Enjoy.

Prologue:

Face down. Face down. Not face up. Face down. Didn't scream or anything. Just dropped. Stone cold. I tried to save him, but he was bleeding too hard. Straight through the jugular. Dead.

Chapter 1:

2 days earlier…

"The front line?"

"Yep."

"But we've only been here for a couple days!"

"Well, you won't miss it then."

I couldn't believe it. The front line. The big one. No more wallowing in the reserves, doing boring training. We were going to the big show.
"So, Alan, how long for?"
"2 weeks, then they rotate us out"
"Only 2 weeks?"
"Yep. Pack your things."
Alan was on his bed, packing his backpack with all he needed. I was still processing this new knowledge. After a few seconds, I put my pack on my bed and began to pack.

Chapter 2:

The front line…
Our ride to the front was uneventful, except for the constant pounding of artillery, but that eventually faded into background noise. When we got there, we were directed to our trenches under an iron sky of guns, grenades and bullets.
Apparently, the enemy were making a push towards us. At one point, they came about 10 metres away from our trench and we could see the whites of their fear-stricken eyes. I killed my first man that day. Got him in the stomach, then finished him off when he sank to his knees. The charge broke a few moments afterwards, with men running as fast as they could back to their trenches.
About a quarter of them actually made it back. The rest lay dead or dying in various amounts of pain, strewn around the battlefield like discarded toys. The one I shot had apparently been one of the enemies braver officers, and people were calling me things like "Hero" and "Saviour".

Someone told me that the person I shot had been leading the charges for months on end and that we lost lots of men whenever he was at the head of a charge.
"Now he's gone", he stated, "We'll have that trench within the week, you mark my words!"

Chapter 3:

The next day…
Alan thought that what I'd done was pretty heroic, too. He patted me on the back like everybody else. I felt like shit. I couldn't see what I had done as a good thing. I'd killed a man. Sure, he had been killing our men too, but he was a hero to the enemy. I'd killed one of their greatest inspirations. If any of those men, in that trench not too far from ours, survived, they would be reduced to emotional wrecks. Not just from losing a great hero, but from the war itself. I'd seen it already, on our side. Veterans walking around, almost trance-like, probably trying to remember a happier time, like before the war. Or their 10th birthday. They had lost touch with reality. That's what any sane soldier fears. Not the cold, dark embrace of death, or the pain, but the sight. The feel. The loss of what you think the world is, stripped away until there is-
"Sam?"
I snapped out of it. I realised I was drooling from lack of concentration. Oh feth, I thought. Is it already happening? Surely not this fast?
"Sam?" Alan repeated. I was aware now.
"Yeah, Alan?"
"We're moving up-trench"
"Really? Why?"
"Logistics apparently thought that losses would be much higher, so the trench is overcrowded. We need to move up in case of bombardment, or it gets too hard to fight."
That made a lot of sense. "How much did Logistics misestimate by?" I asked.
"Well, word from the rabble is that they thought we'd lose the same amount as all the other times, 'cos of that officer you killed. They thought the casualties would be up in the hundreds"
I stared at him, wide-eyed with shock. Had that one man been that inspiring? Could one man really make other men fight with such fervour and fury that his death is the tipping point in a battle?"
These thoughts were at the forefront of my mind as we packed our meagre belongings up and moved up the trench, to the heavier fighting.

Final Chapter:

The next day, I had had an epiphany.
I was that man, now.
I was the hero that all the other men were inspired by.
I could make them fight with the fury and strength of a million men, when we were only a few thousand.
Word had already spread to the other trenches. I was Slayer der Götter, who was already a figure of legend.
 It showed how low morale had been, for me to be elevated to such a high status without being an officer or commander.

These men would follow me to hell and back.

Suddenly, the was a clamour rising from the trench. Men were shouting orders to get ready. We were going to assault the enemy trenches. I looked around. About a dozen men were looking my way, as if I was going to lead them. As soon as the sirens went, I knew I had no choice. I clambered up the trench line with Alan by my side. We were best friends, nothing could stop us.
The few trees in our way provided a little cover from the withering, inaccurate fire coming from the other trench. We had 20 meters to go.
18.
15.
11.
Then, out of nowhere, Alan dropped.
Face down. Face down. Not face up. Face down. Didn't scream or anything. Just dropped. Stone cold. I tried to save him, but he was bleeding too hard. Straight through the jugular. Dead.
My fury was taken to new heights. I grabbed his bayonet from the end of his rifle. I had two in my hands. One to murder and one to avenge. I sprinted the final 10 meters with a war cry on my lips. The men around me did the same.
Then, I was among them. Swinging wildly. It was all a blur of stabbing, ripping, killing, swinging, screaming, blood, death, stamping.
I stopped. The men I had killed were strewn about me, in various states of mutilation. I sprinted around the trench corner.
And I saw him. Death was 20 years old or so, clad in the combat gear of the enemy, bearing a rifle. I stared Death down the barrel of his gun, and didn't flinch when he claimed me.
-Sam-

title: Chains of Command

question: Describe Sam's journey.

answer: Sam is a German soldier who is sent to the front-lines during World War One. Sam kills a man whilst defending his line and the man seemed to be important to the enemy. Sam is hailed as a hero for slaying the enemy and becomes a person the other soldiers look up to. Sam dies after going over the top and killing many of the men on the other side of the battlefield.

question: Why is Sam a hero to his comrades?

answer: Sam kills a man who had been leading successful charges for weeks.

question: How does Sam die?

answer: Sam dies at the hands of an enemy soldier.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: A soldier is sent to the front lines and experiences being a war hero before dying at the hands of the enemy.


text:
_EOMAIA_ (“dawn mother”) is a genus of extinct fossil mammals containing the single species _EOMAIA SCANSORIA_, discovered in rocks that were found in the Yixian Formation, Liaoning Province, China, and dated to the Barremian Age of the Lower Cretaceous about .[1] The single fossil specimen of this species is in length and virtually complete. An estimate of the body weight is between . It is exceptionally well-preserved for a 125-million-year-old specimen. Although the fossil's skull is squashed flat, its teeth, tiny foot bones, cartilages and even its fur are visible.[2]

Description

[Restoration] The _Eomaia_ fossil shows clear traces of hair.[3] However, this is not the earliest clear evidence of hair in the mammalian lineage, as fossils of _Volaticotherium_,[4] and the docodont _Castorocauda_, discovered in rocks dated to about , also have traces of fur.[5]

_Eomaia scansoria_ possessed several features in common with placental mammals that distinguish them from metatherians, the group that includes modern marsupials. These include an enlarged malleolus (“little hammer”) at the bottom of the tibia (the larger of the two shin bones),[6] a joint between the first metatarsal bone and the entocuneiform bone in the foot which is offset further back than the joint between the second metatarsal and mesocuneiform bones (in metatherians these joints are level with each other),[7] as well as various features of jaws and teeth.[8]

However, _E. scansoria_ is not a true placental mammal as it lacks some features that are specific to placentals. These include the presence of a malleolus at the bottom of the fibula, the smaller of the two shin bones,[9] a complete mortise and tenon upper ankle joint, where the rearmost bones of the foot fit into a socket formed by the ends of the tibia and fibula,[10] and an atypical ancestral eutherian dental formula of . _Eomaia_ had five upper and four lower incisors (much more typical for metatherians) and five premolars to three molars.[11] Placental mammals have only up to three incisors on each top and bottom and four premolars to three molars, but the premolar/molar proportion is similar to placentals.[12]

_Eomaia_, like other early mammals and living marsupials, had a narrow pelvic outlet suggesting small undeveloped neonates requiring extensive nurturing.[13] Epipubic bones extend forwards from the pelvis;[14] these are not found in any placental, but are found in all other mammals, including non-placental eutherians, marsupials, monotremes and other Mesozoic mammals as well as in the cynodont therapsids that are closest to mammals. Their function is to stiffen the body during locomotion.[15] This stiffening would be harmful in pregnant placentals, whose abdomens need to expand.[16]

Classification

[Fossil cast] The discoverers of _Eomaia_ claimed that, on the basis of 268 characters sampled from all major Mesozoic mammal clades and principal eutherian families of the Cretaceous, _Eomaia_ could be placed at the root of the eutherian “family tree” along with _Murtoilestes_ and _Prokennalestes_.[17] This initial classification scheme is summarized below.

[Restoration of _Eomaia_ feeding on the insect _Cretophasmomima_] In 2013, a much larger study of mammal relationships (including fossil species) was published by Maureen O'Leary and colleagues.[18] The study, which examined 4541 anatomical characters of 86 mammal species (including _Eomaia scansoria_), found “100% jackknife support that _Eomaia_ falls outside of Eutheria as a stem taxon to Theria”, and so could not be considered a placental or a eutherian as previously believed.[19] The results of this study are summarized in the cladogram below.

The 2013 study by O'Leary et al. is controversial.[20] [21] [22] The original classification of Eomaia as a eutherian mammal is still widely accepted.[23] [24] [25]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

[13]

[14]

[15]

[16]

[17]

[18]

[19]

[20]

[21]

[22]

[23]

[24]

[25]

title: Eomaia

question: Why is Eomaia scansoria not considered a true placental mammal?

answer: Because it lacks some features that are specific to placentals, including the presence of a malleolus at the bottom of the fibula.

question: What does having a narrow pelvic outlet mean when it comes to early mammals and living marsupials?

answer: Having a narrow pelvic outlet suggests small undeveloped neonates that require extensive nurturing.


text:
no name for the story, and i did submit it to /r/literature but i don't think ANYONE read it at all. feedback, por favor?

a young man walks into a bedroom. it's dark, and there isn't much light in the room save a lone bulb, dangling from an old ceiling fan that probably should have been put out of use years ago.

it's the kind of room with its own stairs, the kind that, if you got it, all your siblings are jealous for the entirety of your growing up together. it's a rectangular room, with a window at each short end. the ceilings are slanted in to follow the sharp angles of the roof directly overhead, and the wall paper is a smoke stained white from years of his great grandmother sitting up there reading her old shitty romance novels and chain smoking.

he flicks the power switch of an old tube amp, just as stained as the walls. with a snap the tubes begin to warm, and he starts to tune his favorite guitar. after about a minute or two, with the G string still a little flat, he begins to play. he plays a few songs he knows, not in their entirety of course, just fragmented parts to a greater whole. a greater whole he feels he can never accomplish. as he plays what comes from the guitar starts to lose all clarity, all sense as he begins to think about her. deep in thought, he forgot what he was playing.

his mother shouts up his stairs for dinner time, and it takes him a few moments to realize what's going on. he turns off his amp and joins his family for a quiet dinner.

the next morning comes and goes as nothing but sleep dictates his schedule, besides his court ordered alcohol classes and the bi-weekly therapy sessions his mother put him in. he decided not to go to college, having just graduated high school, abandoning all hope after botching the placement exams, though his family doesn't know this. they simply think he's disgruntled, and will come around eventually, but he has kept private, his reasons.

he wakes around one forty five in the afternoon, to a grumbling stomach, he ignores it. since he can't drive anymore he is void of any plans or anything to do, so he decides to walk to their spot about two miles from his house. their spot is the creek where as children he fell in love with her, the place they spent all their time together.

 they met at a young age no one can recall, and before the age of ten their parents were were putting on bets they'd get married. he missed talking to her. now 18 and alone, sitting in the woods, face blank overlooking the creek. glaring at the water that's shit brown from all the mud and pollutants, he looks around his spot.

 there are large rocks scattered about, all covered in moss. most are half submerged in the wide but shallow creek, but a select few are in what he considers awful places to put such a large rock. the trees are tall and thick, hundreds of years old. they're the only ones around save the few trees in people's yards, since the construction companies came in to build his development. but that was a long time ago.

 sitting in his old woods, he begins to think about her again. his eyes start to get that rubbery feeling, and his vision blurs. he sits in silence as tears roll down his face. an hour passes, or longer, he doesn't care or know how long he's been there. he raises himself up and carries himself home. when he gets to his house, he rushes straight up his stairs avoiding his siblings and father, ignoring his mother's question as to where he had been.

 it's four in the morning, and he's sweating. he decides to take a walk, and finds himself on his way to the only place he seems to go anymore besides his own house. his spot at the creek is down a small road that would probably be considered a country road if it were not for the multitude of single family homes jam packed down the street. he passes the sign for the state park, which some kids had spray painted a large cartoon penis onto. he kind of chuckles to himself, but as he reaches the turn his face sinks into a deep grimace. he hated how much time he spent at his spot, but he felt so guilty if he weren't there. when he reaches his spot, he begins to climb the tree he had when he were younger. the tree he always climbed with her. the tree that served at the catalyst for the breaking of his arm when he was eleven when she laughed until she saw the thin piece of bone sticking out of his arm with the stream of crimson dripping heavily from it. he sat in his tree and thought. thought about everything. thought about his family, thought about his few friends he didn't talk to anymore, thought about how much he missed her and how sorry he was for what he did. as he always did at his special place in the woods, whether it be on the banks of the creek or up in their tree, he cried.

 he asked himself why he thought he'd be alright that night. why he let himself do what he did. out of his backpack he took out a rope. it was a course rope one might think was made of sandpaper, but was really a thick twine for cattle or other. just a moment later, he was dangling by his neck from the thickest branch on the left bow of the tree.

 he couldn't help but stare at the spot she had died. he always found it ironic, the place they fell in love was the same place he had killed her. vehicular manslaughter the police report called it, along with DUI and reckless driving. maybe if she were wearing her seat belt he wouldn't have had to go through the agony of watching his only love get ejected through the windshield of his father's impala. when he climbed out of the car he ran to her. he ran to her like he had one thousand and one times before to the same spot they had played at as children. he found her laying face down on the shore. half of her was in the shallow water, with one leg bent up backwards past her head. the top of her skull was almost flattened, like a military man's flat top, only pushed down to where it wouldn't look humanly possible. to where it wouldn't be humanly possible save some sort of skull crushing event. he held her and cried for an hour. she was gone before he even got to her. she was probably gone after the fender of the impala was crushed from the impact of the moss covered rock jutting out next to the road.

with only a moment left of consciousness before his vision, then subsequently his life, faded to black, he realized he was making a mistake. he thought about his family again, only this time he wasn't so critical of his parents' scoldings or his siblings' arguments. he thought about the friends he wished he talked to more. and lastly, he thought about her. he wished he could have done better by her, but knew it was too little, too late. he wished he could have said goodbye, maybe get a little closure, but if that happened he wouldn't be where he is now. realizing he was a fuck up, he also realized it's not too late to change. only, with your neck in a noose and you're feet dangling 8 feet above the ground, change is difficult. groping for the rope to try to relieve his weight, he wasted more of his precious oxygen. as he became heavier and heavier, and as the rope cut more and more into his thin neck, he began to cry one last tear.

title: Wrote this a year and a half ago when I was (shocker here!) depressed. Just found it on my computer.

question: What is the narrator's name?

answer: This information is not in the text.

question: What happened to upset the narrator?

answer: The girl he had loved since childhood was killed in a car accident, and he was the driver.

question: Who died?

answer: A girl described as the narrator's 'only love'. She was his friend since childhood and they were implied to be in a relationship as teenagers.

question: Describe the narrator's thoughts when he is alone in the woods.

answer: He is remembering his childhood with the girl he loved, whose death he caused, feeling guilty and suicidal.

question: Who is the narrator?

answer: An 18 year old male who recently graduated high school.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator goes about his days in a deep depression, attending therapy for grief and addiction since the car accident, for which he was responsible, caused the death of the girl he had loved since childhood. Despite being a recent high school graduate, he sees no future for himself and goes to a spot woods he'd shared with her, and hangs himself from a tree. At the last minute, he realizes he can change for the better, but struggling only wastes his oxygen.


text:
-   8 Customer Reviews

-   -   2.8

    out of 5 stars overall

50% of customers recommended.

Bought this brand because the 3M were more expensive. Put on my first mask to mow my lawn and dis...

-   Recommended Product

Bought this brand because the 3M were more expensive. Put on my first mask to mow my lawn and discovered only part of the little exhale flap was opening properly making it hard to breathe. I took a small flat-tip screw driver and pried open the rest of the flap that was stuck. What a difference! Test the exhale flap for proper function before continuous use as it may impact your ability to breathe properly.

Very disappointed in these mask and I bought a whole box. The fabric is harder to breath through...

Very disappointed in these mask and I bought a whole box. The fabric is harder to breath through than the 3M brand and they do not seal around your nose. So if you are wearing safety glasses, they fog up, so what good is a dust mask that won't seal. The 3M brand is much better and what I have used for years. I would avoid these.

This might be ok for different uses. I bought it to use while cleaning my basement. It is very ...

This might be ok for different uses. I bought it to use while cleaning my basement. It is very dusty and I have very bad asthma. I could not breathe through this thing, it interfered with my glasses and was just an absolutely disaster.

-   Recommended Product

Since I have asthma these masks really help me breath easier while I work

Pros: Good Protection

Mitch

Valparaiso, IN, USA

-   Recommended Product

priced right for value. Being a wearer of glasses most disposable masks leak and fog your glasses. these have a built in nose baffle tom prevent that and are easily adjusted with the nose clip

Pros: Easy to Use

Not a good mask compaired to 3Ms

Could not seat around nose to get a good seal. Found in safety section of tools decided to give them a try, wish I had just walked down to paint and grabbed another pack of 3Ms masks with breather valve. 3Ms same price and nicer to use.

-   Recommended Product

These masks worked well for our construction project--mostly for sawdust protection. The ventilation port makes breathing easier and a little less hot and humid. I will buy these for future projects.

Pros: Easy to Use, good value

I bought three of these MSA-brand dust masks for use in my wood shop. They'd work ok for a bit and then one of the rubber straps would break. This happened on every single one and no my head is not that big! They are cheaply made. Stick with a similar mask made by 3M.

Cons: strap is too fragile.

Share your thoughts with other customers

question: Why didn't the customers buy the 3M mask?

answer: Because it was more expensive.


text:
With the fall season cooler temperatures, Boise National Forest fire managers plan to start their annual fall prescribed burning program of nearly 3000 acres this year which could last for several weeks depending on weather and fuel conditions.

Fire crews anticipate favorable weather conditions by early October, allowing them to ignite low-intensity prescribed fires that reduce potential wildfire fuel, improve wildlife habitat, and reduce threats to nearby communities.

Specific information is available by contacting the local ranger districts, the Boise National Forest Headquarters at 208-373-4100, on the web at www.rxfire.com, or by calling the prescribed fire hotline at 208-373-4208.

Fire officials strongly advise hunters and other outdoor enthusiasts to determine the location and anticipated times of burns before leaving their homes.

Fire personnel will attempt to contact people who might be hunting or recreating in an area before a planned ignition. Recreating public impacts are anticipated to be very minimal.

Lowman Ranger District (1,091 acres):

-   Sam’s Pine (500 acres) located about 10 miles northwest of Lowman will be ignited using a helicopter to reduce fuels and restore the area.
-   Bear Creek (500 acres) about 20 air miles east of Lowman and near Grandjean will be ignited using a helicopter to reduce fuels and restore the area.
-   Long Creek Summer Homes Pile Burn (15 Acres) is located about 5 miles north of Lowman and fire crews will burn piles left from a timber sale near the cabins.
-   Timber sale Landing (76 acres) will burn a series of slash piles left from the Low Rock Re-Run project about 5 miles south of Lowman and the Fir Roadside salvage sale located in the Bear Valley area near Fir Campground.

Cascade Ranger District (460 acres):

-   Crawford Aspen (7 acres) is located about 4 miles northeast from Cascade and the goal is to improve aspen habitat and reduce wildfire risk to the urban area.
-   Horsethief (360 acres) located about 3 miles northeast of Horsethief Reservoir will involve a helicopter and hand lighting to reduce fuel by igniting a landscape burn.
-   Rustican (1,029 acres) located about 5 miles northwest of Warm Lake will use a helicopter and hand lighting to reduce fuel by igniting a landscape burn.
-   West Side Restoration Pile Burns (62 acres) is located about 10 miles west of Cascade, and fire crews will treat timber landing slash piles.
-   Lower Johnson Pile Burns (28 acres) located about 8 miles south of Johnson Creek will involve fire crews lighting slash piles.

Idaho City Ranger District (1,125 acres):

-   Warm Springs Ridge (200 acres) located 4 miles west of Idaho City fire crews will use hand lighting to reduce fuel in the urban interface area.
-   Alder (100 acres) located 1 mile north of Placerville will reduce fuel in the Wildland Urban Interface area.
-   Mores South (50 acres) located about 3 miles east of Idaho City will involve a landscape burn using hand ignition in the Wildland Urban Interface area.
-   Little Ophir (100 acres) is a landscape burn that will reduce fuel in the Wildland Urban Interface area.
-   Warm Springs Aerial (600 acres) located 4 miles west of Idaho City will use a helicopter and hand lighting to reduce fuel in this wildland urban interface area.
-   District Pile Burning (75 acres) will involve fire crews burning slash piles in a variety of locations across the district. This type of burning usually occurs after heavy precipitation or with snow on the ground.

Emmett Ranger District (2 acres):

West Scriver Landing (2 acres) is located about 7 miles north of Crouch and fire crews will burn slash piles near Forest Road 695 that are remaining from the West Scriver logging operations.

Mountain Home Ranger District (278 acres):

-   Boise Ridge (250 acres) located in the Shafer Butte area will involve slash pile burning.
-   Trinity Salvage (28 acres) located west of Featherville will involve slash pile burning.
-   Signs will be posted on roads near all burn areas prior to and when burning is in progress.

Site-specific burn plans have been developed to address potential smoke management concerns. All burns will be conducted when there is favorable atmospheric ventilation to minimize smoke impacts to local communities. Local residents may notice smoke from these prescribed burn projects for a few days following ignition, particularly in the evening hours.

question: When will Boise National Forest fire managers start the burning program this year?

answer: By early October.

question: What will be recreating public impacts of the burning?

answer: They are anticipated to be minimal.

question: What cautious steps will fire managers take?

answer: They tell fire personnel to contact people who might be hunting or recreating in an area before a planned burning; they will use a helicopter and hand lighting in some areas to reduce fuel.

question: Why do fire managers decide to start the burning in October?

answer: Because favorable weather conditions are anticipated by early October.

question: How will the fire crew address potential smoke management concerns?

answer: All burns will be conducted when there is favorable atmospheric ventilation to minimize smoke impacts to local communities.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Boise National Forest fire managers will start the burning program by early October because of favorable weather conditions. The fire personnel will contact people who might be hunting or recreating in an area before a planned burning. The fire personnel will use a helicopter and hand lighting in some areas to reduce fuel. Burns will be conducted when there is favorable atmospheric ventilation to minimize smoke impacts to local communities.


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

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

Cholulaman

title: My belt, a tourniquet

question: Who are the main characters of the story?

answer: The narrator, the narrator's driver, the Latino driver of the pickup, the girl

question: Where does the story take place dream?

answer: Interstate.

question: What is going on?

answer: The narrator has a vivid dream of a gruesome accident while on the interstate.

question: What happened to the girl?

answer: She gets hit by a truck and dragged under, killing her.

question: Write a ~10 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator recalls having a vivid dream about being a passenger in an SUV on a four-lane interstate. The pickup in front of him is loaded with furniture and boxes that get dislodged when traffic comes to a stop. When the pickup's Latino driver goes down to collect his cargo, his passenger, a young woman, goes down too, not knowing that there is a truck barreling down on them. The narrator sees the accident about to unfold and warns them, but they cannot hear him. Knowing it is too late to help, he feels useless but cannot stop watching. The truck rag dolls the young woman, dragging her under and crushing her leg. The narrator rushes to help, takes off his belt, and uses it on the girl's severed leg as a tourniquet. The Latino driver knelt beside the young woman, weeping. It is too late to help her, as it appears her neck is broken. The narrator wakes up.


text:
KRISTOPHER NATHAN HUMPHRIES[1] (born February 6, 1985) is an American former professional basketball player who played in the National Basketball Association (NBA). He played in the NBA for the Utah Jazz, Toronto Raptors, Dallas Mavericks, New Jersey / Brooklyn Nets, Boston Celtics, Washington Wizards, Phoenix Suns, and the Atlanta Hawks. Humphries played college basketball for the Minnesota Golden Gophers of the University of Minnesota, and for the United States men's national basketball team.

Early years

Humphries was born in Minnesota to Debra and William Humphries. His father was a football player at the University of Minnesota.[2] Humphries is half African-American from his father.[3] He has two older sisters, Krystal and Kaela. His first success in sports came in competitive swimming, where he was the top 10-year-old in the nation in six events, first, beating young Michael Phelps in the remaining events. Kris Humphries held the US national record for the 50-meter freestyle for 10 and under boys for 18 years until it was recently broken.[4] At age 12 he gave up swimming to pursue a career in basketball.

Humphries attended Hopkins High School, where he led the team to a 25–2 record in 2002 and its first Minnesota state championship in 49 years.[5] He was named a 2003 McDonald's All-American and named Second Team All-USA by USA Today.[6] He was also named to the Super 25 Basketball Team by USA Today, named Minnesota Mr. Basketball, and state player of the year by the Minneapolis Star Tribune and College Basketball News.[7] He was one of 10 finalists for the 2003 Naismith Prep Player of the Year Award, averaging a double-double in his final three seasons, averaging 25.7 points, 11.4 rebounds and 5.0 assists a game as a senior.[8]

Considered a five-star recruit by Rivals.com, Humphries was listed as the No. 2 power forward and the No. 15 player in the nation in 2003.[9]

Humphries accepted a scholarship offer to Duke University, but later reconsidered and chose the University of Minnesota.[10]

College career

At Minnesota, Humphries was named 2004 Big Ten Freshman of the Year and named to the All-Big Ten First Team by the media and coaches. He was named Honorable Mention All-America by the Associated Press and by Rivals.com. He was the first freshman to lead the Big Ten in scoring and rebounding in the same season. He scored in double figures in all 29 games, with 16 point/rebound double-doubles on the season for Minnesota. He averaged 21.7 points and 10.1 rebounds (both tops in the Big Ten), while shooting .444 percent from the field and .742 from the line. On February 18, 2004 he set a school record with 36 points in a game against Indiana. He also set a school record for most points by a freshman for a season with 629 and was the first Big Ten freshman to be named conference Player of the Week in two of the first three weeks of the season. Humphries only played one season for Minnesota before declaring for the NBA Draft.

Although Humphries was personally successful at Minnesota, the team struggled. The Gophers finished 12–18, with a 3–13 record in the Big Ten during Humphries' lone season, tying Penn State for the worst record in the conference.[11] Critics accused Humphries of playing selfishly, preferring to inflate his statistics and NBA draft stock rather than help the team win games.[12] The team had a .500 record before his arrival and finished with a 10–6 conference record in the season after he left.

Professional career

Utah Jazz (2004–2006)

Humphries was drafted by the Utah Jazz with the 14th overall selection in the 2004 NBA draft.[13][14] He spent two seasons with the Jazz, averaging 3.7 ppg and 2.8 rpg in 4.8 minutes per game.[15]

Toronto Raptors (2006–2009)

On June 8, 2006, Humphries was traded along with Robert Whaley to the Toronto Raptors in exchange for Rafael Araújo.[16] In the 2006–07 season, after a slow start in which he did not receive many minutes from Raptors coach Sam Mitchell, Humphries proved to be a valuable rebounder and energy player and contributed to the Raptors capturing their first ever division title.[17] On March 28, 2007, he grabbed seven offensive rebounds in 27 minutes against the Miami Heat, both a game-high[18] and a career-high.[19] He followed up this performance with nine offensive and 18 total rebounds in a win against the Detroit Pistons on April 13, 2007, again both game and career-highs.[20][21] Humphries concluded his inaugural season with the Raptors with a career-high 3.1 rpg and .470 field goal percentage, as well as 3.8 ppg.[22]

Dallas Mavericks (2009–2010)

[Humphries played with the Dallas Mavericks during the season.] On July 9, 2009, Humphries, Shawn Marion and Nathan Jawai were traded to the Dallas Mavericks as a part of the four-team deal among Raptors, Mavericks, Orlando Magic and Memphis Grizzlies.[23]

New Jersey Nets (2010–2013)

On January 11, 2010 the Mavericks traded Humphries along with G/F Shawne Williams to the New Jersey Nets in order to re-acquire Eduardo Nájera.[24] On January 27, 2010, Humphries scored a career-high 25 points against the Los Angeles Clippers. He previously recorded career highs of 15 and 21 points respectively as a New Jersey Net. The 2011 season was a breakout season for Humphries as he averaged a double-double in points and rebounds. On December 21, 2011, Humphries signed a one-year, $8 million contract with the New Jersey Nets.[25]

On July 17, 2012, Humphries signed a two-year, $24 million contract with the Nets, who by that point had moved to Brooklyn.[26]

Boston Celtics (2013–2014)

On June 27, 2013, ESPN.com reported that the Nets and Boston Celtics had worked out a trade that would send Humphries and four other players (Keith Bogans, MarShon Brooks, Kris Joseph and Gerald Wallace) as well as three future first-round draft picks to Boston in exchange for Kevin Garnett, Paul Pierce, and Jason Terry as well as D. J. White.[27] The deal was finally completed on July 12, 2013.[28]

Washington Wizards (2014–2016)

[Humphries warming-up with Wizards in November 2014.] On July 19, 2014, Humphries was acquired by the Washington Wizards in a sign-and-trade deal that sent a protected 2015 second round pick and a trade exception to the Boston Celtics.[29] On October 9, 2014, he underwent successful surgery to repair nerve damage in his right small finger, and was subsequently sidelined for three to four weeks.[30]

On November 14, 2015, Humphries made 5-of-8 three-pointers on his way to a game-high 23 points, helping the Wizards defeat the Orlando Magic 108–99. Prior to the 2015–16 season, Humphries had gone more than a decade since making a three-pointer. He hit two in his 2004–05 rookie season, and none after that, until this game.[31]

Phoenix Suns (2016)

On February 18, 2016, Humphries was traded, along with DeJuan Blair and a 2016 protected first round draft pick, to the Phoenix Suns in exchange for Markieff Morris.[32] He made his debut for the Suns the following day in a 116–100 loss to the Houston Rockets, recording 18 points and 12 rebounds in 27 minutes off the bench, becoming the 13th Suns player to have a double-double in his debut.[33] On February 28, after three starts in four games, he was waived by the Suns in a buyout agreement.[34]

Atlanta Hawks (2016–2017)

On March 1, 2016, Humphries signed with the Atlanta Hawks.[35] Three days later, he made his debut for the Hawks in a 106–77 win over the Los Angeles Lakers, recording 14 points, eight rebounds, one steal and one block in 22 minutes off the bench.[36]

On July 15, 2016, Humphries re-signed with the Hawks.[37]

Retirement

On September 25, 2017, Humphries signed with the Philadelphia 76ers[38] but was waived on October 14, 2017, as one of the final roster cuts.[39] Humphries announced his retirement on March 26, 2019.[40]

National team career

Humphries was on the 2002 U.S. Junior World Championship Qualifying Tournament Team, alongside future Raptors teammate Chris Bosh.[41] The team finished with a 4–1 record and the bronze medal and qualified for a berth in the 2003 FIBA Junior World Championship.[42] Humphries averaged 9.0 points and 5.0 rebounds in five games.[43]

Personal life

Humphries began dating reality TV personality Kim Kardashian in October 2010. They became engaged in May 2011,[44] and married on August 20, 2011.[45] A two-part TV special showing the preparations and the wedding itself aired on E! in early October 2011, amidst what _The Washington Post_ called a “media blitz” related to the wedding.[46] On October 31, 2011, it was announced that Kardashian had filed for divorce from Humphries after 72 days of marriage.[47][48] On December 1, 2011, Humphries filed his response to Kardashian's petition, requesting an annulment on the grounds of fraud or a decree of legal separation rather than Kardashian requested divorce.[49] Several news outlets have spread rumors that Kardashian's marriage to Humphries was merely a publicity stunt for financial gain orchestrated by E! Entertainment, Kris and Kim Kardashian to promote the Kardashian family's brand and their subsequent television ventures, though there has been no substantial evidence to support their claims.[50] In April 2013, after a lengthy legal battle, Humphries and Kardashian reached a divorce settlement.[51] Their divorce was finalized on June 3, 2013.[52]

Humphries is a private real estate agent in Minnesota and a franchise owner of some restaurants.

NBA career statistics

Regular season

|- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”|Utah | 67 || 4 || 13.0 || .404 || .333 || .436 || 2.9 || .6 || .4 || .3 || 4.1 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”|Utah | 62 || 2 || 10.0 || .379 || .000 || .523 || 2.5 || .5 || .4 || .3 || 3.0 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”|Toronto | 60 || 2 || 11.2 || .470 || .000 || .671 || 3.1 || .3 || .2 || .4 || 3.8 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”|Toronto | 70 || 0 || 13.2 || .483 || .000 || .605 || 3.7 || .4 || .4 || .4 || 5.7 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”|Toronto | 29 || 0 || 9.1 || .422 || .000 || .792 || 2.4 || .3 || .3 || .2 || 3.9 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”|Dallas | 25 || 0 || 12.6 || .461 || .000 || .568 || 3.8 || .3 || .3 || .4 || 5.2 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”|New Jersey | 44 || 0 || 20.6 || .433 || .000 || .699 || 6.4 || .6 || .7 || .8 || 8.1 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”|New Jersey | 74 || 44 || 27.9 || .527 || .000 || .665 || 10.4 || 1.1 || .4 || 1.1 || 10.0 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”|New Jersey | 62 || 62 || 34.9 || .481 || .000 || .752 || 11.0 || 1.5 || .8 ||1.2 ||13.8 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”|Brooklyn | 65 || 21 || 18.3 || .448 || .000 || .789 || 5.6 || .5 || .2 || .5 || 5.8 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”|Boston | 46 || 10 || 19.9 || .501 || .000 || .866 || 5.7 || 1.0 || .4 || .9 || 7.6 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”|Washington | 64 || 17 || 21.0 || .473 || .000 || .744 || 6.5 || .9 || .5 || .4 || 8.0 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”|Washington | 28 || 14 || 16.6 || .405 || .343 || .935 || 4.1 || .6 || .1 || .5 || 6.4 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”|Phoenix | 4 || 3 || 18.5 || .278 || .300 || .750 || 8.0 || 1.8 || .8 || .5 || 7.3 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”|Atlanta | 21 || 0 || 14.0 || .465 || .258 || .711 || 3.4 || .6 || .5 || .3 || 6.4 |- | style=“text-align:left;”| | style=“text-align:left;”|Atlanta | 56 || 4 || 12.3 || .407 || .352 || .780 || 3.7 || .5 || .3 || .4 || 4.6 |- class=“sortbottom” | style=“text-align:center;” colspan=“2”|Career | 800 || 203 || 17.8 || .463 || .293 || .700 || 5.4 || .7 || .4 || .6 || 6.7

Playoffs

|- | style=“text-align:left;”|2007 | style=“text-align:left;”|Toronto | 6 || 0 || 11.5 || .333 || .000 || .375 || 2.8 || .2 || .2 || .3 || 1.5 |- | style=“text-align:left;”|2008 | style=“text-align:left;”|Toronto | 3 || 0 || 0.7 || .000 || .000 || .000 || .0 || .0 || .0 || .0 || .0 |- | style=“text-align:left;”|2013 | style=“text-align:left;”|Brooklyn | 7 || 0 || 11.9 || .452 || .000 || .429 || 3.3 || .1 || .1 || .4 || 4.4 |- | style=“text-align:left;”|2015 | style=“text-align:left;”|Washington | 1 || 0 || 5.0 || 1.000 || .000 || .000 || 3.0 || .0 || .0 || .0 || 2.0 |- | style=“text-align:left;”|2016 | style=“text-align:left;”|Atlanta | 4 || 0 || 14.0 || .464 || .500 || 1.000 || 6.0 || 1.0 || .5 || 1.3 || 9.3 |- | style=“text-align:left;”|2017 | style=“text-align:left;”|Atlanta | 1 || 0 || 3.0 || .000 || .000 || .000 || 0.0 || .0 || .0 || 1.0 || 0.0 |- class=“sortbottom” | style=“text-align:center;” colspan=“2”|Career | 22 || 0 || 9.9 || .449 || .500 || .571 || 3.0 || .3 || .2 || .5 || 3.6

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title: Kris Humphries

question: What might have happened to Humphries' NBA career if he opted to stay in school and play college basketball?

answer: He might have had a more fruitful NBA career because he would have more years under his belt playing against the top-level players in the Big Ten, not an NBA rookie with just freshman college experience. He also might have learned a thing or two about leading his team and playing unselfish basketball, which could've placed him higher in the NBA draft. On the flip side, he could've regressed or became injured, and wouldn't even be accepted in the draft.

question: What is Kris Humphries known for?

answer: He is known for his high-profile marriage to Kim Kardashian that only lasted for 72 days.


text:
In the fetus, the DUCTUS VENOSUS (ARANTIUS' DUCT after Julius Caesar Aranzi[1]) shunts a portion of umbilical vein blood flow directly to the inferior vena cava.[2] Thus, it allows oxygenated blood from the placenta to bypass the liver. Compared to the 50% shunting of umbilical blood through the ductus venosus found in animal experiments, the degree of shunting in the human fetus under physiological conditions is considerably less, 30% at 20 weeks, which decreases to 18% at 32 weeks, suggesting a higher priority of the fetal liver than previously realized.[3] In conjunction with the other fetal shunts, the foramen ovale and ductus arteriosus, it plays a critical role in preferentially shunting oxygenated blood to the fetal brain. It is a part of fetal circulation.

Anatomic course

The pathway of fetal umbilical venous flow is umbilical vein to left portal vein to ductus venosus to inferior vena cava and eventually the right atrium. This anatomic course is important in the assessment of neonatal umbilical venous catheterization, as failure to cannulate through the ductus venosus results in malpositioned hepatic catheterization via the left or right portal veins. Complications of such positioning can include hepatic hematoma or abscess.

Postnatal closure

The ductus venosus is open at the time of birth and is the reason why umbilical vein catheterization works. The ductus venosus naturally closes during the first week of life in most full-term neonates; however, it may take much longer to close in pre-term neonates. Functional closure occurs within minutes of birth. Structural closure in term babies occurs within 3 to 7 days.

After it closes, the remnant is known as ligamentum venosum.

If the ductus venosus fails to occlude after birth, it remains patent (open), and the individual is said to have a patent ductus venosus and thus an intrahepatic portosystemic shunt (PSS).[4] This condition is hereditary in some dog breeds (e.g. Irish Wolfhound). The ductus venosus shows a delayed closure in preterm infants, with no significant correlation to the closure of the ductus arteriosus or the condition of the infant.[5] Possibly, increased levels of dilating prostaglandins leads to a delayed occlusion of the vessel.[6]

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title: Ductus venosus

question: Explain what it means if a baby has a patent ductus venosus.

answer: A baby with a patent ductus venosus is someone whose ductus venosus failed to fully occlude or close.

question: What are the risks associated with malpositioned hepatic catheterization?

answer: Complications of malpositioned hepatic catheterization include hepatic hematoma or abscess.

question: What is the function of the ductus venosus in preborn infants?

answer: It shunts a portion of umbilical vein blood flow directly to the inferior vena cava, allowing oxygenated blood from the placenta to bypass the liver. It plays a critical role in shunting oxygenated blood to the preborn brain.

question: Explain the relationship between the percentage of shunting in the ductus venosus and the liver of preborn infants.

answer: The ductus venosus shunts 30% of blood at 20 weeks, which decreases to 18% at 32 weeks. The shunted blood bypasses the preborn liver. These percentages are lower than those found in many animal experiments and indicate a higher priority regarding the preborn liver than was previously understood.


text:
COLIN SHAW (born March 17, 1954 in Powell River, British Columbia) is a retired Canadian sprint canoer who competed from the mid-1980s to the early 1990s. He won bronze medal with partner Don Brien in the K-2 1000 m event at the 1985 ICF Canoe Sprint World Championships in Mechelen.

Shaw also competed in two Summer Olympics, earning his best finish of ninth in the K-4 1000 m event at Los Angeles in 1984.

title: Colin Shaw (canoeist)

question: How did Colin Shaw perform at the Summer Olympics?

answer: His best finish was coming in ninth in the K-4 1000 m event at Los Angeles in 1984.

question: Where was Colin Shaw born?

answer: Powell River, British Columbia

question: What awards did Colin Shaw win?

answer: He won a bronze medal in the K-2 100 m event at the 1985 ICF Canoe Sprint World Championships in Mechelen.

question: Describe Colin Shaw's personal life.

answer: His personal life is not written about in the article.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Colin Shaw is a retired Canadian sprint canoer. He competed from the mid 1980s to early 1990s, including competing in two Summer Olymipcs. He won a bronze medal at the 1985 ICF Canoe Sprint World Championships.


text:
_REICHELTIA HALSTEADI_, HALSTEAD'S TOADFISH, is a species of pufferfish endemic to Australia. This species grows to a length of TL. This species is the only known member of its genus.

Description

The Halstead's toadfish is a species representing a monotypic genus of tetraodontid fishes. The most obvious characteristic of the Halstead's toadfish is an elongated body that is rounded dorsally. The body is also flattened ventrally, tapering to a narrow caudal penduncle. It has a small terminal mouth with no chin and triturating teeth are absent. The top of pectoral fin base is below the lower margin of eye and the pectoral fin margins are rounded. The Nasal organ has two small, almost equally sized openings. The eyes are round, moderate in size and the rim is completely adnate. The lips are moderately thick and covered with numerous short papillae. The prefrontals are moderately large, rounded, each with a small olfactory nerve foramen; frontals wide over orbit; sphenotic not contacting supraoccipital. The spines are restricted to the nape and belly.[1]

The color of the body varies, the ground color of dorsum is pale yellowish green with many irregular light browns or reddish-brown blotches. Dark brown bands cross the dorsum at the eyes, between the eyes and pectoral fin base, just behind the pectoral fin base and are extending down side at dorsal fin base, and at the caudal fin base. Brownish blotches and yellow green background continue to mid-lateral region of the fish and are replaced by small silverfish-grey flecks which gradually merges into the white belly. The cheeks and lower lateral surfaces have a silverfish-grey sheen. Spinose region of the belly is white. All fins are pale, and a reddish-brown patch is seen on anterior of pectoral fin insert.[2]

Distribution and habitat

Halstead's toadfish is distributed in the southwestern Pacific, from Queensland to New South Wales, Australia. It is found at depths ranging from 1 to 80 metres.[3] [Halstead's toadfish range] Reicheltia halsteadi is demersal marine species. It is typically found on sand just beyond turbulent zone off surf beaches[4] and can also be found in sheltered bays.[5] Young fishes occur in small schools over sandy bottoms. It does not appear to be overly common throughout its known range.

Diet

The feeding habits of Halstead's toadfish have been little researched in general. However research into similar demersal tetraodontid fishes would suggest that their diet consists mostly of algae and small invertebrates such as crustaceans and mollusks. They can survive on a completely vegetarian diet if their environment is lacking resources, but prefer an omnivorous food selection.[6]

Toxicity

The muscles of Halstead's toadfish contain less than 10 MU/g of tetrodotoxin in its tissue and considered harmless.[7] Many species of pufferfish bear this toxin, obtaining it from tetrodotoxin-containing bacteria in their diet.[8]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4] Kuiter, R.H., 1993. Coastal fishes of south-eastern Australia. University of Hawaii Press. Honolulu, Hawaii. 437 p

[5] Shao, K., Liu, M., Hardy, G., Jing, L., Leis, J.L. & Matsuura, K. 2014. Reicheltia halsteadi. The IUCN Red List of Threatened Species 2014: e.T193685A2260243

[6] “Puffer Fish: Fun Facts & Photos of Puffer Fish - (Tetraodontidae)”. _Our Beautiful Planet_. 2017-02-07. Retrieved 2017-03-30.

[7]

[8] Noguchi, Tamao; Arakawa, Osamu (2008). “Tetrodotoxin – Distribution and Accumulation in Aquatic Organisms, and Cases of Human Intoxication”. _Marine Drugs_. 6 (2): 220–42. doi:10.3390/md20080011. PMC 2525488 . PMID 18728726.

title: Reicheltia halsteadi

question: Describe Halstead's toadfish.

answer: It is a pufferfish. It has an elongated body that is round at the back but flat at the front. The eyes are round, and it lips are thick. It is multicolored, pale yellow-green at the back, with many irregular reddish brown blotches.

question: Where is Halstead's toadfish found?

answer: The fish is found in the Southwestern Pacific, from Queensland to New South Wales, Australia. It is found at depths ranging from 1 to 80 meters. It is typically found on sand just beyond turbulent zones off surf beaches.

question: Summarize the toxicity of the toadfish.

answer: It is harmless. However it does have 10 mu//g of tetrodoxtin in its tissue. Many species of pufferfish bear this toxin.


text:
The Million Mile Road

I have walked this path for as long as I can remember. The days and nights blend together, into slurry of marching feet. There are others who walk on this endless journey. Ahead of me, and behind me, the millions fade into the distance. Occasionally, one will fall. Some are picked up by the ones who walk with them. Some, they pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and continue on their journey. But some don't get back up. They lie in the dirt, motionless. The others walk around them, either oblivious to their plight, or simply numb to their existence. We walk on, and they disappear from sight. I have looked to both horizons, for days at a time, but they are never there. Those that fall and do not get up simply disappear. We walk this path, the sound of thousands of feet meshing into a cacophony of sound.

I grow tired of this journey. Every day I feel myself grow a little weaker, a little slower. The constant sound of feet hitting the ground, this marching drumbeat, lulls me. I just wish to sleep, to rest my head. So I lie down, on the side of the road. I will not be long, for all I wish to do is rest. Just for a little while. The others continue on, marching on the same path that is the only thing they have known. But I must rest. I lay my head to the ground, and close my eyes. I must rest, if only to regain enough strength to continue on.

Suddenly, there is a shift. The sound is not the same as it was before. I open my eyes, and look up. Someone has stopped. Why? She is staring at me with piercing blue eyes. Why is she staring at me? Why can’t I simply rest? A voice. She is speaking.

“Why are you laying there?”

Isn’t it obvious? I am tired. I wish to sleep. And you are bothering me. Let me rest.

“No one who lies down does so simply because they are tired.”

Well, I have. I want to rest. I want to be left alone to my sleep. The others have left me here, and now I just want to close my eyes and see no longer.

She looks at me puzzlingly, as if I were some piece in a museum that hadn’t been there before. She won’t just go away and let me sleep, but I don’t want to get up to shoo her away. I’m just tired, and all I want to do is be left alone so that I can finally rest. This road goes on, never-ending, and I am sick of the constant walking. I’m sick of the unwavering pace. All I want to do is rest. Is that such a crime? She is speaking again.

“You know, I tried to lay down once. All I wanted to do was rest. But then someone stopped, and made me get up. They wouldn’t let me sleep.”

What is she talking about? Is she one of those who fell? Is she one of the ones who were pulled back up? I have never seen her before, but I am certain that I saw all of those who fell. My mind is buzzing with questions. Distracting, confusing questions that only keep me from sleep. And still she is talking. And still she is explaining.

“… and so they told me, 'if you stay here, the wolves will find you.' But I did not care. But he did. And he did not let me stay. He told me, 'if you are too weak to walk, I will help you. If you are too tired to walk, I will carry you. But I will not leave you to the wolves.'”

The wolves? I have never seen a wolf. I have seen nothing on this trail but the vast expanse of nothingness that rings it on both sides. But she is persistent. I have never had another on this trail interact with me in this way before. I do not know how to respond. So I tell her,
“I am tired. Just let me sleep.”

She cocks her head to the side. Her mouth forms the shape of a small ‘o’. As she stands there, I notice that the people on the trail have become a blur. All of them are slowly disappearing into a mist. All of them but her.

“If you are weak, then I will help you walk. If you are tired, then I will carry you. But I will not leave you to the wolves.”

How? How could this person show such care to one which they have never met? Slowly, shakily, she helps me to my feet. A mix of emotions flow through me. This girl has decided that I am worth helping. This girl has decided that I should be alive. I feel a wave of emotion wash over me. I have never felt like this before. I have never felt this warm feeling. The aches in my bones, the sleep in my eyes, the haze in my brain, all of it starts to disappear.

I continue to walk this path, day after day, night after night. When I grow tired, the others help keep me on the path. I am grateful for the help of strangers. Of people who had every right to ignore my existence. I walk along this path, but I no longer feel tired. My steps are no longer weak, no longer slow. They have given me a purpose that I previously lacked.

I walk along the path. A man falls to the ground, just off the side. Others walk around him, either oblivious to his plight, or numb to his existence. I stop in my tracks. Looking directly at him, I ask,
“Why are you laying there?”

Isn’t it obvious? He is tired. He wishes to sleep.

“Why are you bothering me?”

I smile to myself.

“Because you cannot sleep. The path may be long, and you may be tired, but you have been walking alone this whole time. I cannot allow you to stop here.”

He looks at me.

“Why?”

My mind goes through the many memories of my time on this path. Of those who I have met, and those whom I have walked with. I know why he must walk the path, but he will need to find out for himself.

“If you are weak, I will help you walk. If you are tired, I will carry you.”

But I will not leave you to the wolves.

title: A short story.

question: What motivates the narrator to get back on his feet to continue the path he is on?

answer: The girl that stops beside him on the path decides he is worth helping the same way she was once saved. The narrator felt something he has never felt before. He felt warm waves of emotions and suddenly his aches and haze in his brain all started to disappear. His steps on the path no longer felt weak. He now had a purpose he previously lacked.


text:
There lives a tale of a mysterious forest that has yet to be fully explored or even discovered. It is only echoed in rumors spread by newer journalists trying to get a start at their career or some conspiracy theorists just trying to spread what they think is true around the internet. The only thing about it is that each and every report is different. One says that the forest has a demon inside it. Others say that it's just a normal old forest. And yet more say that the beasts inside are well fed by a resident witch that they devour all that walk in. All theories farfetched, all theories more than likely false or just rips from other horror movies that have scarred the writer's childhood. There are a few constants in the stories though. One of them being that nobody knows the precise location of the forest, and that is likely due to the other notable constant: nobody who has walked in the forest has walked back out.

Unfortunate for a little group of Boy Scouts that planned their adventures to a nearby forest that had always intrigued the small, but growing troop. They never stood a chance or even could know about the doom that they had just put themselves to...

The little campout adventure just simply contained seven bodies. Five boys and two adult leaders. They decided to take a weeend backpacking trip into the forest and camp out at a clearing that satellite images on Google had shown. They'd spend the entire Saturday there, then return on Sunday. The group of boys consisted of the Patrol leader, Nick Tepp. He was the crazy guy that had the idea in the first place. He was pretty fit and an all around good organizer. He's the son of the lead Scoutmaster, Michael Tepp. Mike was all about reading into survival books and literature, and had his favorite shows about that subject. The only problem is that that's all he ever did. He never had tried surviving out in the wild before.

The second of five kids was the assistant Patrol Leader, Greg Schaeffer. He was a scrawny kid and wore giant glasses and was significantly younger than the rest of the boys. He had a quick sense of humor and was very intelligent, however, which is what he had rode on to get his position. The third was the Quartermaster and Chef, Owen White. He was a plump boy who was on his last year of being a scout and had set his sights on a top college in the state. He had stopped caring about scouts a long while ago, but the new campout had piqued his interest and he decided to tag along for the ride and see how it went.

The fourth and fifth were brothers. The older one was Jack Klepton. He had been known to be a class clown and generally a ne'er-do-well. He had always slacked off in school, but promises of adventure always brought a sparkle in his eye and a determined smile like he could take on the world. The younger one, Keith, was the opposite end. He was studious and anti-social. He hated scouts and hated nature. The only reason why he had come was because his father, another one of the scout masters, had forced him on the trip, believing to give his sons a litt bit of fresh air. Kevin Klepton was a lot more fit than Mike, but shared his older son's stubborn state of mind and was much more daring, despite the white hairs starting to cover his head.... Or at least what little bit of his head that can grow hair.

They had left to go into the forest with High hopes and full stomachs, laughing and taking a quick pace for the trail, yet had no idea what was to become of them and that none would return to see thier families and friends.

title: [First] The Forest introduction! I decided to put out an intro to a story I've wanted to write and would enjoy feedback. Maybe I can follow through with the rest of the story if it gets good reviews. Sorry for long post.

question: What are the names and attributes of the dead Boy Scout troupe?

answer: The Patrol Leader was Nick Tepp, who was fit and crazy. The lead Scoutmaster, Mike Tepp, was his father. He loves to read about survival but is not practical. The assistant Patrol Leader was Greg Schaffer, a scrawny nerd with a good sense of humor. The Quatermaster and Chef was Owen White, a plump guy who just wanted to get into a good college. Finally there were Jack and Keith Klepton. They were opposites. Jack was a class clown, Keith was very studious.

question: What happened to the Boy Scout troupe?

answer: They died. It is unclear if they died due to natural causes, or supernatural ones. The story is incomplete. It is possible they simply did not have enough survival skills. But the story also states that the forest is magic, mysterious, and old.


text:
With all the attention given the heated contest for the Republican Party presidential nomination, it’s easy to forget the battle to become the Democratic nominee isn’t over.

Bernie Sanders’ supporters in Washington certainly haven’t.

On Sunday, at Heatherwood Middle School in Mill Creek, they made their presence felt at the convention of the Snohomish County Democratic Party, turning a usually bland affair of process and pep rally into a rowdy rebuke of three of the party’s torchbearers in Congress.

Inside the school’s gym, they unleashed their frustration at Sen. Patty Murray and Reps. Rick Larsen and Suzan DelBene for pledging their superdelegate votes to Hillary Clinton at the upcoming Democratic National Convention.

They contend the trio, and the party’s other 14 superdelegates, must instead cast their vote for Sanders, who defeated Clinton by a nearly 3-1 margin in the state party caucuses.

They expressed themselves by repeatedly interrupting the speeches of Murray, Larsen and DelBene by stamping on the bleachers and chanting, “Bernie”.

Richard Wright, the county party chairman, repeatedly gaveled the crowd into order though the calm never lasted long.

Murray, forced to halt her comments several times, did receive applause when she said superdelegates have never overturned the will of pledged delegates, Wright recounted. Clinton is leading Sanders among pledged delegates.

When Larsen took the stage, there were a few boos mixed in with the rhythmic bleacher stomping and chants.

“We heckled the heck out of him,” said an unapologetic Scott Lee, a Snohomish resident and precinct committee officer in the 39th Legislative District. “No matter whatever good they do in Congress, casting their superdelegate vote for Clinton doesn’t cut it.”

DelBene arrived later in the convention and probably wanted to leave without finishing because of the persistent disruptions.

The situation intensified when one man came out of the bleachers and headed toward the congresswoman as she tried to speak. Wright said he and a couple of other people rushed out to greet him on the gym floor and turned him back.

“There were a couple scary moments,” Wright said. “There was a group there wanting only to hear them say they would support Bernie Sanders.”

Passions reportedly flared at conventions in King, Skagit and Whatcom counties as well.

But even before the conventions, the state’s superdelegates have been aggressively targeted by Sanders devotees. It started with an online petition, migrated into vitriolic comments on individual lawmakers’ Facebook pages and last month led to police arresting a man for allegedly threatening to cut out Democratic Congressman Jim McDermott’s tongue because of his support of Clinton.

State party officials have not publicly commented on any of the incidents.

“We’ve certainly heard some of the stories. It’s something we’re monitoring at this point,” said Jamal Raad, spokesman for the state Democratic Party.

It will likely persist through the state party convention in Tacoma in June.

“We are certainly fired up,” Wright said. “In the end what will contain that fire is when one of the candidates gracefully bows out and inevitably endorses the nominee.”

_Political reporter Jerry Cornfield’s blog, The Petri Dish, is at www.heraldnet.com. Contact him at 360-352-8623; jcornfield@heraldnet.comand on Twitter at @dospueblos._

Ballots on their way

Ballots for the presidential primary will be mailed to registered voters Thursday. They must be returned or postmarked by May 24 to be counted.

For this election only, voters are required to choose and sign a political party declaration on the return ballot envelope. Voters must then choose a candidate of the same political party for the ballot to be counted.

Additional information can be found online at www.sos.wa.govor by calling 425-388-3444.

TALK TO US

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question: What did Bernie sander's supporters do at the convention of the Snohomish County Democratic Party?

answer: They turned the rally into a rowdy rebuke of the three party's torchbearers in Congress.

question: How did they express themselves?

answer: They did this by repeatedly interrupting the torchbearers' speech.

question: Which other counties experienced disruptions from Bernie's supporters?

answer: King, Skagit and Whatcom counties.

question: What was the response of the state officials on any of the incidents?

answer: The officials have refused to comment publicly.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: Bernie Sanders supporters are not happy with the Democratic Party's torchbearers for the Snohomish County. Sander's supporters are not happy these representatives voted for Hillary Clinton instead of Bernie Sanders. The supporters made their displeasure known by heckling the representatives and shouting "Bernie" whenever they rose to speak. Similar disruptions also happened in King, Skagit and Whatcom counties. The Democratic Party state officials have refused to comment publicly.