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999 Call for the NHS

A grassroots NHS campaign. Not affiliated to any of the political parties.

100% run by volunteers passionate about saving our NHS.

[999logofinal_Pill_straight_360] 999 Blog

We are a national campaign group that aims to restore the NHS so that it is

-   free at the point of clinical need for everyone

-   publicly funded, managed, provided and staffed

-   with the Secretary of State for Health fully responsible for providing and promoting a comprehensive, universal health service

-   complete with coordinated Social Care as an equal public service partner

-   with no private commercial companies given management and control

Successive governments since the 1980s have systematically dismantled, cut and privatised our health and social care services - and continue to do so, faster than ever.

Sadly this is not a quick-fix campaign. But we are determined to continue our campaign.

And we invite you to join us.

Welcome

[HOMEPAGE BOX ABOUT US] [HOMEPAGE BOX ARCHIVE]

March 23rd 2020 COVID19

Suddenly the stark reality of the NHS situation is revealed for all to see.

We can clearly see that the once solid coordinated NHS and Social Care infrastructre has been so badly damaged by years of underfunding and corporate greed that the impoverished NHS workforce is now almost on its knees, struggling to fight for our lives and theirs with the novel coronavirus.

At this time we are concentrating on communicating honest and verified notices regarding the COVID19 situation. We have much to say about what should be done to restore the NHS to a public service once again free from private company profiteering interference. Those statements will come when the time is right.

If ever there was proof of the need for a fully funded, government run , managed and delivered state health system - THIS IS IT!

At this moment in time we ask you to be safe, find your local NHS Campaign group who may be supporting the local hospital in a positive way eg. helping to maintain good public relations. Here is a Stay Safe Leaflet we helpdd usign using Government  and NHS website information.

FIND LOCAL NHS CAMPAIGN FIND LOCAL COVID19 Group

NURSES NOTES MEMORIAL

Our thoughts are with the community nursing teams who are now also on the frontline in our cities, towns and villages. And to the staff of care homes who are faced with dealing with Covid19 in non-secure surroundings and with little support from employers and local authorities.

To find out more about this map visit the Nurses Notes website

NURSES NOTES

July 4th 2020 COVID19

The desperate chaos as a result of fragmentation and a government more concerned with private contract deals than saving lives continues to multiply.

Since April it has become clear that planning and strategy using well-trusted Public Health methodology was continually ignored while the Cabinet fussed and sweated over making the right contracts available to the likes of Deloitte, G4S, Serco, Google and Microsoft.

Even now the Test, Track and trace system is a shambles because of the obsession with ensuring the system is placed in private hands rather than rebuilding the perfectly good PUBLIC HEALTH teams around the country. The government has been a disgrace and we are appalled.

Thanks to all the campaigners around the country who are as determined as we are to bring the NHS out of this privatisation madness.

ENTER GALLERY [GALLERY 72]

September 4th 2020 COVID19

The schools returned this week with yet more confusing information and guidelines issued by the government.  The Johnson government have made it abundantly clear that it is not worried about being a "National Disgrace" (Dr.Richard Horton, The Lancet) and that it will continue to create policy that benefits nobody but private contract holders and large corporations.

Various areas of the country have been placed in temporary lockdowns - again with confusing guidelines and instructions.

The government have scrapped Public Health England in favour of a strange National Institute for Health Protection - headed by Dido Harding and a team of people who have no experience in public or clinical health.

(read this excellent OpenDemocracy article for more info)

[HOWL SCANDAL] [threads of surviva 4 SITEl]

THREADS OF SURVIVAL

This winter you and friends could be part of something unique.

We are creating a 999 Call for the NHS creative arts activism project and we want you to consider how you could help. This winter has to be about telling our story for future generations and a reawakening of the public awareness of what is going on around us.

This winter following the tragic events of Covid19 Lockdown we want to invite groups across the country to come together to create living documents of social history - recording this period of our history and reflecting on the political, social, economic and environmental elements that have affected us all.

To find out more click the link.

We  send our deepest symapthies to the familes and loved ones who have lost those dear to them because of their jobs - fighting to save lives.

Our thoughts are with all those on the frontline of the pandemic in A&E, ITUs - nurses, doctors, support workers and hospital staff. There is still little confidence in this government as we enter the Autumn months and the unknown pattern of the pandemic.

THREADS of SURVIVAL

question: What does the article state is at fault for the state of the NHS currently?

answer: Not only does the article state that the state of the NHS is down to systematic underfunding and corporate greed but it also states that the corona circus has impacted on it a lot. The NHS was brought to its knees because those who work for it are not compensated for their time, love and commitment to their jobs. It is also stated that the government given to much attention to private contracts deals.

question: What is the suggested solution to the problems the NHS is facing?


split: train

text:
_IMAGINARY PLAYMATE_ is a thriller film which debuted on HBO in 2006. The film stars Dina Meyer, Rick Ravanello, Cassandra Sawtell, and Pablo Coffey.

Plot

Suzanne (Dina Meyer) and her 7-year-old stepdaughter Molly Driscoll move into a new house after Molly’s dad Michael becomes manager of a sawmill. Molly’s mother has died 3 years earlier after having breast cancer. Molly acquires an imaginary friend named Candace Brewer who she insists is real. Molly passes on information gleaned from Candace which it would be impossible for Molly to know and asks Suzanne to be Candace’s “mummy” as Candace’s real mother died giving birth and Candace suffered mistreatment by her father. Suzanne’s belief that something strange is going on is bolstered by her encounter with Dora who is an elderly resident in a care home where Suzanne volunteers. Dora can apparently see Candace and warns Suzanne that Candace is dangerous. Suzanne and Michael increasingly disagree about how to manage Molly’s worrying behaviour and their relationship suffers.

Then Suzanne becomes pregnant and Molly knows before being told. She says Candace is afraid that the new baby will replace Candace in Suzanne’s affection and that Candace is hostile. Candace tells Molly that the baby won’t be born which she reports tearfully to Suzanne. Suzanne does research in newspaper archives and finds the story of Candace’s mother dying when giving birth to Candace’s sibling. She also reads that Candace died by hanging. Suzanne follows Molly to a church graveyard were Candace’s mother and father are buried but not Candace who is buried in unconsecrated ground as she was a suicide. As Suzanne prepares a nursery for her expected baby an unseen force knocks Suzanne off a ladder and she loses the baby.  Molly blames herself for the loss and seemingly becomes comatose and is hospitalised. When Molly wakes she speaks as Candace and calls Suzanne “mummy” then laughs demonically. With the help of Father Phillip from the church, Suzanne learns Candace’s father hanged Candace before he then lived out his life in a mental institution. Meanwhile Molly(Candace) insists Michael takes her home from hospital where responding to Molly’s calls he is lured upstairs and hit on the head. Suzanne realises Candace will take revenge on Michael and rushes home to find Candace now visible as a ghostly presence alongside Molly. Candace admits to wanting to kill him as “he killed me”. Candace then reveals that she took her baby sister and left her on a church steps so she didn't have to suffer the abuse from her father like she did. Her sister is Dora. It was this act which infuriated her father who then hanged her. Candace then encourages Molly to jump from the roof to join her own dead mother as Suzanne doesn’t really love her. But Suzanne pleads that she does love Molly and that Molly needs to grow up and have her own family. Ultimately Suzanne convinces Molly to come into her embrace and start again.

Cast

-   Dina Meyer as Suzanne Driscoll
-   Cassandra Sawtell as Molly Driscoll
-   Nicole Muñoz as Candace Brewer
-   Rick Ravanello as Michael Driscoll
-   Pablo Coffey as John Forbes
-   Nancy Sivak as Dr. Barrett
-   Kurt Evan as Rob Conelly
-   Bronwen Smith as Julie
-   Grace Vukovic as Megan
-   Jim Shepard as Father Phillip
-   Gil Hayward as Dr. Brewer
-   Marilyn Vance as Dora
-   Rosalynd Roome as Sarah Brewer

title: Imaginary Playmate

question: Summarize the plot for the film "Imaginary Playmate".

answer: Dina Meyer's character is Suzanne who plays as the stepmother of 7-year-old, Molly Driscoll. Molly acquires an imaginary friend, Candace Brewer, and asks Suzanne to also be Candace's mother. Suzanne is warned by an elderly lady that Candace is dangerous. When Suzanne becomes pregnant, Molly predicts that the baby will not be born. After researching Candace's story, Suzanne learns that Candace died by hanging. Later, Molly wakes up from a coma in the hospital and begins to speak as Candace.


text:
	The oxygen machine bubbled on as we allowed ourselves to be drowned in the silence of the hospital room. A tear rolled down my father’s cheek while my grandmother continued to gently sway her nails back and forth across his back like she did years before – like he’s done to me. Then my extraneous thoughts meandered their way back into my head like usual. It dawned on me that that would be among the last moments I spend with her. I realize how lucky I am to have been there.
	 My grandma has always said that she loves New York, having only gone but a handful of times in the entirety of her life. She has also loved seeing her son perform, listening to beautiful music, and other forms of art. Married at 18, and having a child soon thereafter, she never got to experience the things that could bring her as much joy as her family. I will always wonder if she lived without regret.
	I looked down at her hand – discolored, weakened and wrinkled. I could just hold it in my young and hearty hand with time to spend written all over it effortlessly. We could join as a crossroads of relatives and of diversity - her at the ending of her life, and me very much at the beginning of mine.  Because of my mother and father’s education, as well as my own, I stand here now with more opportunity than she received in all of her years combined. I will always wonder if she lived without regret.
	“But,” she says, “It’ll just take time for it to get better.”  Hope, even then. She let out one of her light laughs that just roll their way out into the space of your ears. It’s comforting to feel that from her. We all gave a slight chuckle, but we knew that it would not get better.  It had been said many times just that day that we’ll have to sacrifice her quality of life for it to be sustained.
	Going to visit her was one of the most powerful and important times in my life. I learned firsthand the circle of life. When you’re there and you know that the days your loved has left are vastly outnumbered by that he or she has lived, you accept it. You have always known that it would happen, no matter how fucking painful it is and how completely powerless you are over the situation.
It’s just life and that’s all it will ever be – from birth to death.  It’s all we, as humans here on this planet will ever really know in the concrete. Have faith, but be content. Look forward to a better time, but know that there is always a now.  There will be a time to say goodbye to everyone you’ve ever met. Take it, and be grateful.

title: Short story about my Grandmother and Life. First post to r/shortstories, hope you enjoy and I would love some feedback.

question: Does the narrator's grandmother pass away?

answer: Yes.

question: Why did her grandmother love New York?

answer: This information can't be found.

question: What does the narrator learn from her grandmother's life?

answer: It may be implied that the narrator learns that you have to give time for things to get better.

question: Who was married at 18?

answer: The narrator's grandmother was married at 18.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer:
The narrator's grandmother lay on the hospital bed breathing her last few minutes. These were the narrator's last few moments with her. Grandma loved all forms of art. Going to visit her grandmother was one of the most important times of the narrator's life.
There is a time to say goodbye to everyone you meet.


text:
Alex was born.

By the time he was 18 months old, Alex had taught himself how to read. At three years old he was playing piano and by four he was composing symphonies, études and concertos. By all measures, Alex Miner was a genius. He began studying mathematics after a particular day playing with blocks and learning Latin. He simultaneously learned the word *scientia* and, while stacking red blocks upon yellow blocks, realized that ideas could be stacked too. From that moment on, he began to consume math day and night, stopping only occasionally to eat and, when mulling over a particularly complex problem, to lay at the foot of his parent’s bed and stare at the ceiling.

In his small room in rural Nebraska, he pushed his mind to the furthest limits of known math and physics, and once he had learned everything there was to be taught, he invented. He was prone to wild fits of anger, dowsed by deep crevesas of depression and meloncoly. He won awards for his discoveries, as well as money. He won three million dollars alone for Millennium Prize problems, by solving the Riemann hypothesis, the Poincaré conjecture and the Hodge conjecture within a single year. There were even rumors of the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences approaching the Nobel Foundation regarding a Nobel Prize in mathematics for his work. Without care for fame or fortune, or any of those things the child mind does not bother itself with, Alex twisted and turned down the rabbit hole of understanding, and anyone who knows rabbit holes knows there is not enough room to turn or look back.

Of all the interests this life has to offer, Alex only cared for two of them; Mathematics and numismatics. He was as fascinated by coins from all the old civilizations of the world as he was by geometric postulates. The imperial coinage of the Roman Empire depicting Brutus and Marc Antony, Celtic coins differentiated by tribe and region, the latter Byzantine coins of Alexius IV and Constantine XI, and old English hammered coins all struck him with great beauty and mystery.

When Alex was nine, he came to a problem he could not solve. The problem was not an old problem, since the language needed to ask it was created by Alex himself, but it was generally considered a hard problem by the mathematics community. This was the first time he had come to a puzzle in which he could not instantly solve, let alone solve at all. Day after day he lay at the foot of his parents bed, eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, daydreaming of numbers.

When Alex was ten, doctors found the first tumor. He was undergoing some routine checkups at the local hospital, and a few men from the university wanted to do a brain scan for their research. These types of scans were not uncommon, ever since his work in the field of quantum physics got the attention of academia, Alex was obliged to let doctors and specialists take photos of his miraculous brain. Top neuroscientists and cognitive researchers would fly into Lincoln Airport to meet with him, always leaving with a look of excitement on their faces as they went to begin their study of his head. At first it was just a small black smudge on the xrays, but the tumor grew and multiplied rapidly. More tumors grew over the course of a few months, and as his eleventh birthday grew near, Alex’s frontal lobe was irreversibly full of black smudges on grainy white photo paper.

His physical brain was of no concern to him though. As long as his mind worked long enough to solve this problem, the problem that had made him set up a bed of blankets and pillows at the foot of his parents bed, he would be happy. While not in the blanket bed, Alex researched old coins and talked about collecting on a website he found called The New Mismatists. He let his concerns and thoughts slip away while he lost himself in Greek and Roman provincial coins, talking to other collectors and amateurs about this nuance or that. He started his own site shortly after and called it Charta Numus.

While Alex’s website thrived with coin collectors and enthusiasts, his health began to fail. His energy was gone and he could barely bring himself to get out of bed in the morning.

“I need to go into space.” He said one morning at the breakfast table.

“Why do you need to go into space dear?” Asked his mother.

“I’ve come to the end of my research, I can only do the last part in space.”

“Space is quite a long ways away, and you need your rest.”

“I’ve already decided, and I’m going in three months.”

His father spoke up, “Son, you can’t just go to space, it takes a lot of training to get ready for something like that. Besides, it is very expensive, I think it costs more money than you have.”

“I have a plan, don’t worry.” Alex said.

His parents looked at eachother, then back to their dinner.

Alex worked furiously. He sent emails to scientists, engineers and doctors around the globe. A community of supporters sprung up on his website Charta Numus, donating to his project by sending him a dollar if he in turn would think of them when he was out there. After three months, he was ready.

---

“I’m going into space tomorrow.” Alex said to his parents at the dinner table.

The looked at each other incredulously. “Honey, are you sure about this?” His mom asked.

“Yes, I’m sure, I have to do it. There are fringe elements of dissent regarding the Miner Henley Mandelbrot proposition. However, both Bromley’s camp and Drell’s camp have come around on the specific plausibilities. There is virtually no substantial counter-arguments left. I...” He stopped.

“Mom, the Russians are sending someone up to do this next week, and china is going to do it next weekend. I know I probably won’t make it back, but I want to do this more than anything I've ever wanted. I have a list of doctors here you can ask anything, I can make the launch and return flight. Dad, no one has ever done this experiment before, and this is my last chance to, I have to go.”

His mom cried, his father did the dishes, and Alex spend his last night on earth in a pillow fort at the end of his parents bed, thinking about earth.

The launch was more terrifying than people had told him it would be. There was a beauty in the terror though, to let go of all the fear and experience the magnificent roar of the rockets just feet away outside of the capsule. Once outside of the atmosphere and Earth’s gravitational hug, his body lifted up out of the seat and he was alone in the black sea of space. He thought for a good while sitting in his restraints. He was completely alone.

“Alex, this is control, do you copy?”

“Kennedy, this is Alex.”

“We’ve got someone on the line for you, they say they’re from Nebraska, do you want to take it?”

“Of course.”

“They are on now.”

“Honey?” The voice of his mom came with static over the intercom.

“Hi mom, I don’t have much time but I wanted to tell you I solved that problem I couldn’t figure out.” Alex said.

“Oh that is wonderful dear, I’m so proud of you, we are both so proud of you. Your father is here, would you like to speak to him?”

“Yeah , I love you mom.”

“Son?” His father's voice came through faintly.

“Hi dad, I figured it out.”

“I’m so proud of you son, I can’t wait to see it.”

“You will, but I won't be able to show it to you, I love you dad.” Alex said.

The conversation lasted a little while longer, then Alex was alone again.

The ship automatically re-entered the atmosphere at its set time, and the recovery crew fished Alex’s capsule out of the sea. His final thoughts were recorded in his journal, where he had sprawling notes and numbers. At the end of the journal was a paragraph long theorem that was circled and noted ‘This is it’. On the very last page there was a drawing of a coin and a note below it saying, “I’m thinking of all of you right now, charta numus.” Charta Numus, paper coin.

title: Charta Numus (Paper Coin)

question: Why does Alex want to go into space?

answer: He thinks the latest problem he came up with and couldn't solve requires him to be in space to solve.

question: Explain the purpose of the website Alex created.

answer: It's a website about ancient coinage. It's for coin collectors to communicate with each other.

question: Why do the scientists want to study Alex's brain?

answer: He's a genius who solved a lot of extremely difficult questions before the age of nine. His brain has to be exceptional.

question: How does Alex manage to gather the money to go into space?

answer: He asks for donations through his website, Charta Numus, in exchange for promising he will think of the donors while in space.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: Alex is a child prodigy unlike any other; he solves three Millenium Prize problems before he turns nine. The only problem he can't solve is the one he came up with, and it consumes his thoughts. Meanwhile, the doctors find numerous tumors in his brain when he is ten. He declares that he needs to be in space to solve his question and gathers donations through his website about ancient coinage. He manages to convince his parents that this is his last chance, launches into space, and solves the problem.


text:
TITO BURNS (born NATHAN BERNSTEIN, 7 February 1921 – 23 August 2010)[1] was a British musician and impresario, who was active in both jazz and rock and roll.

Biography

Early life

The son of a cabinet maker, he was the sixth and youngest child of Polish Orthodox Jewish immigrants who had settled in Bethnal Green.[2][3][4] Burns was a self-taught accordionist[5] from the age of 12, initially performing semi-professionally in the 1930s. From 16, he performed as a member of Don Marino Barreto and his Rumba Band, which had extended London residencies. It was as this time that he gained the “Tito” sobriquet which he retained for the rest of his life.[6][7] He worked with the pianist Lou Preager and the clarinettist Carl Barriteau at the Cotton Club in Soho, with Burns doubling on piano.[8] By 1941, he was leading a group at the Panama Club, but served in the Royal Air Force from 1942 becoming a member of the RAF Regiment Sextet the following year. He saw active service as a gunner in the Far East, but after VJ-Day, he worked in forces radio.[9][10]

After demobilisation, his new group, the Tito Burns Septet, which was formed in January 1947 and disbanded in August 1955, its existence practically coinciding with the run of the BBC's _Accordion Club_ radio series.[11][12] The group is believed, partly on the account of musician Ronnie Scott, to have been the first band to perform the new jazz idiom bebop on BBC Radio in 1947.[13] Their approach was derived from the “bop for the people” formula created by the American tenor saxophonist Charlie Ventura.[14] When the show ended, the band went on tour and recorded a number of sides with various line-ups, including the pianist and trumpeter Dennis Rose, Scott and alto saxophonist Johnny Dankworth and drummer Tony Crombie.[15] In 1949, they were recording as a septet, but went back to being a sextet shortly afterwards.[16] Ultimately, Burns was unable to maintain a jazz idiom, and began to lean towards a pop-oriented repertoire.[17]

Talent manager

From 1955, Burns's career switched to management and the emerging rock and roll, which he admitted to disliking.[18] In 1959, he replaced Franklyn Boyd as manager for Cliff Richard.[19] He soon gathered a list of clients, including The Searchers, whom he gave over to Brian Epstein.[20] Among the new talents he discovered was singer Dusty Springfield.[21] As an impresario, he first brought Cliff Richard to tailor Dougie Millings for a stage costume. The resulting outfit, with its unique style, was later emulated by other performers of the time.

Burns appeared in D. A. Pennebaker's documentary film _Dont Look Back_ (1965) which documented Bob Dylan's first UK tour, which Burns promoted.[22] He disapproved of what he saw on screen: “I wasn't doing anything unusual. All agents play the bouncing act. I was playing the BBC against Granada, but I didn't like seeing it on film. I thought that none of the TV producers would speak to me again.”[23] His agency was bought in 1966 for £250,000 by the Grade Organisation and Burns became the deputy managing director of Harold Davison Ltd, a Grade subsidiary.[24]

Burns briefly left managing performers to become Head of Variety Programming in March 1968 at the soon to launch new ITV franchise holder London Weekend Television, with the head of light entertainment, Frank Muir, being his superior. He poached Simon Dee, then a high-profile host, from the BBC in October 1969, but Dee's eclipse under his new contract and LWT's early internal problems led Burns to resign by summer 1970.[25]

In October 1971, he formed a new company, Scotia-Tito Burns with the Scotia leisure group, which supplemented representing performers with roles as music publisher, television production, film scorings and promoting concerts and their recording projects.[26] Throughout his career, he promoted tours for many US entertainers in Europe including Simon and Garfunkel. He retired in 1976. However, he continued to book Tony Bennett and Sacha Distel for their British appearances, and remained Victor Borge's representative.[27]

Personal life

Burns married Teresa Devon, his longtime girlfriend known as the singer, Terry Devon, in 1948. The couple had two daughters.[28]

Death

Tito Burns died at home on 23 August 2010, of complications from prostate cancer, at the age of 89.[29]

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[16] Tito Burns …

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[19] “Franklyn Boyd”, _The Independent_, 23 May 2007

[20] The Searchers Official Website.

[21] Douglas Martin “Dougie Millings, the Tailor for the Beatles”, _The New York Times_, 8 October 2001

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title: Tito Burns

question: Summarize Tito Burns's career as an impresario.

answer: He became a talent manager in 1955, with clients including Cliff Richard, The Searchers, and Dusty Springfield. He promoted Bob Dylan's first UK tour. In 1971, he formed a new company, Scotia-Tito Burns, which also represented performers. He promoted tours for US entertainers in Europe, including Simon and Farfunkel.  Even after retirement, he remained a representative for Victor Borge.

question: Summarize Tito's career during the 1940s.

answer: In 1941, he led a group at the Panama Club. In 1942, he served in the Royal Air Force and became a member of the RAF Regiment Sextet the next year. After VJ-Day, he worked in forces radio. His group, the Tito Burns Septet, was formed in 1947. The group is believed to have been the first band to perform bebop on BBC Radio in 1947. The band went on tour after the show's end.  They briefly recorded as a septet in 1949.

question: Summarize Tito's life outside of the entertainment industry.

answer: He was the sixth child of Polish Orthodox Jewish immigrants who lived in Bethnal Green. He served as a gunner in the Far East for the Royal Air Force. He married Teresa Devon in 1948 and had two daughters. He died in 2010 from prostate cancer at the age of 89.

question: What does the article say about the quality of Tito's musicianship?


text:
Artificial intelligence (AI) has finally caught the Indian government’s attention.

On Feb. 01, delivering his budget speech, finance minister Arun Jaitley told parliament that the government think-tank, Niti Aayog, will spearhead a national programme on AI, including research and development. The intent showed in the numbers: Budget allocation for Digital India, the government’s umbrella initiative to promote AI, machine learning, 3D printing, and other technologies, was almost doubled to Rs3,073 crore ($477 million) this year.

“It’s extremely encouraging to see the government recognise the need for research in cutting-edge technologies,” Subrat Kar, CEO and co-founder of Noida-based video intelligence platform Vidooly, told Quartz. Niti Aayog’s support will “allow us to indigenously develop technologies on par with our Silicon Valley counterparts, and reduce dependency on them,” Kar said.

Niti Aayog, led by CEO Amitabh Kant, has been a key promoter of various digital campaigns in the country, including the massive biometric programme, Aadhaar, and the India chain project, which is creating blockchain infrastructure to support IndiaStack, a set of codes developed around Aadhaar. That’s why the AI initiative has charged up tech companies.

Meanwhile, the department of science is also set to launch centres of excellence (CoEs), investing in research, training, and skilling in digital manufacturing, big data analysis, quantum communication, and internet of things (IoT).

Yet, all this may have come a little too late.

BACK OF THE LINE

Globally, several countries have already committed millions of dollars to developing AI programmes. The US leads the pack, thanks to decades of public and private investment. Over the last five years, San Francisco’s Bay Area, in It helps that the US is home to institutes that champion AI research. particular, has attracted 41% of all global investments in AI, according to China-based Synced Review. It helps that the US is home to institutes that champion AI research such as Stanford University and Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), and the world’s biggest tech companies like Facebook, Amazon, Apple, and Google.

China, aclose second, is swiftly ramping up efforts. Canada, reportedly the birthplace of AI research, is fast turning into a hub with tech majors like Google, Microsoft, and Facebook setting up research labs in Montreal.

THE CHINESE EXAMPLE

To play catch up, India is following its neighbour’s footsteps.

“Arguably, China has set the example for India,” said Kartik Hosanagar, professor of technology and digital business at University of Pennsylvania’s Wharton School. Last year, the Asian nation laid out an AI development plan, outlining goals for the next three years and a blueprint for its strategy until 2030. Not only are its local players, including search giant Baidu, taxi company Didi Chuxing, or internet firms Alibaba and Tencent, spending aggressively on AI, global companies like Google have also set up labs there.

India isn’t faring badly, though. Over half (58%) of the companies using AI in the country work at scale, beyond pilot and test projects. However, the sector is dominated by American firms like Accenture, Microsoft, and Adobe, which have their innovation centres here. Home-grown efforts on the academic, business, and investor fronts are few.

[ ]
Percentage of companies using AI who are doing so at scale, beyond pilots

Between 2014 and 2017, AI startups in India raised less than $100 million from venture capitalists. In any case, hardly any new Indian tech companies are research oriented. There is also a severe dearth of data, which hinders research. And finally, even those who do set up AI-based ventures struggle to find the right talent and skills.

“We should recognise that India is so far behind in this race that I’d put the odds for success to be low,” Hosanagar said. “India might end up as a big consumer of the new tech-economy featuring AI- and IoT-related technologies. But will it be a big producer in this economy? Today’s environment suggests that it’s unlikely.”

China, meanwhile, has been luring top global AI researchers, many from Silicon Valley firms. It has built a $2 billion research park dedicated to AI in western Beijing and its spending more millions on AI research at universities and private firms. The research community in China is also far more robust than in India.

The Chinese government spends 2% of its GDP on research while India’s marks a dismal 0.6%. And its implementation is also far ahead: The country, with its lax privacy standards compared to the rest of the world, is already using facial recognition technology in daily life there already, from buying KFC to boarding planes.

Image: Quartz

Moreover, regular collaboration between Chinese corporates, universities, and the government over the last many years has now begun to pay off for that country. A survey by technical recruiting platform HackerRank ranked Chinese programmers as the world’s best. In recent years, they’ve often won international machine-learning competitions.

In India, AI has only just begun to make its way into classrooms, and a lack of qualified professors is not helping at all.

Moreover, large-scale, real-world applications of AI will take time to emerge. And initially, it is likely to be restricted to laboratories.

“The return on investment in AI won’t be evident for a while,” said Anindya Ghose, the Heinz Riehl professor of business at New York University (NYU). The entire ecosystem—government, companies, employees—needs to brace for this period of limbo as the domains where AI can be used shape up.

Whether India can persevere through this is another matter altogether.

question: What does the text say about androids?

question: What does the text say about Artificial Intelligence (AI) and India?

answer: Artificial Intelligence (AI) has finally caught the Indian government's attention. India's Finance Minister, Arun Jaitley, told parliament that the government think-tank, Niti Aayog, will spearhead a national program on AI research and development. At the time of the article, the budget allocation for Digital India, the government's umbrella initiative to promote AI, machine learning, 3D printing, and other technologies, almost doubled to Rs3,073 crore ($477 million). The move will spur local companies to indigenously develop technologies on par with their Silicon Valley counterparts and reduce dependency on them.

question: What does the text say about India's place in the AI pecking order?

answer: India's push towards AI might be a little too late. Globally, India is far behind several countries that have committed a lot of time, resources, and money to develop their AI programs. The U.S. leads the pack, thanks to decades of public and private investment. The U.S. has attracted 41 percent of all global investments in AI and is home to institutes that champion Artificial Intelligence research such as Stanford University and Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) as well as the world's biggest tech companies like Google, Apple, Amazon, and Facebook. China is ramping up its AI efforts and is a close second, while Canada, the birthplace of AI, is fast becoming a tech hub where major players like Google and Microsoft setting up research labs in Montreal.

question: What does the text say about the difficulties India is facing when AI is concerned?

answer: Although 58 percent of companies using AI in India work at scale (beyond pilot and test projects), the sector is dominated by American firms like Adobe, Microsoft, and Accenture. Home-grown efforts on the academic, business, and investor fronts are few. AI startups in India raised less than $100 million from venture capitalists between 2014 and 2017, while hardly any new Indian tech companies are research-oriented. India's AI sector also faces a severe shortage of data that hinders research. Companies that are able to set up AI-based ventures struggle to find the right talent and skill, with many of the top global AI researchers going to China after they built a $2 billion research park dedicated to AI in Western Beijing.


text:
MOVING to Brussels, says Donald Tusk, the president of the European Council, was like reaching “paradise”. True, that had more to do with the abundance of Flemish masterpieces in local museums than the delights of coaxing compromise from the European Union’s 28 disputatious leaders. Mr Tusk has the unenviable task of managing the European response to an endless series of crises without any real power of his own. Yet almost a year into the job he has found ways to manage, and sometimes to surpass, its limitations. As he speaks in his Brussels office, you get the sense that he might even be enjoying himself.

Few Eurocrats’ eyebrows remained unraised when Mr Tusk won his appointment. Poland, the country he had run for seven years, had barely a decade’s experience of EU membership and remained outside the euro, the union’s signature project. Mr Tusk’s abrasive style, honed in the rough-and-tumble of Poland’s young democratic politics, seemed an ill fit with the consensual methods preferred in Brussels. He worked to improve his English but, some sniff, still cannot speak French.

Mr Tusk has not swayed all his critics, though their numbers are dwindling. Europe’s crisis-manager-in-chief has weightier problems on his mind. He returns repeatedly to a single theme: the need to shore up Europe’s liberal values against the threat from populism. This is hardly an original thought in a continent afflicted by Marine Le Pen and Viktor Orban, but Mr Tusk has his own take on it. The liberal centre must be “tough and determined”, he said recently in the Netherlands, “not to become more like the right-wing populists, but to protect Europe against them.”

Thus, for example, his mantra that the EU must regain control of the borders through which hundreds of thousands of refugees and other migrants have flowed this year. He has called for an end to the policy of “open doors and windows”, a remark some saw as a jab at Angela Merkel, the German chancellor. If voters cannot be assured that Europe’s frontiers are secure, fears Mr Tusk, then they will turn to nastier leaders. (He mentions Poland, where nationalists have just ejected Civic Platform, the centre-right party Mr Tusk founded and led to two election victories.) That will make it hard, if not impossible, to pursue the more liberal policies, such as sharing out asylum-seekers across Europe, that Mr Tusk says he backs. He notes the paradox: to preserve its openness, Europe must countenance a degree of closure.

Mr Tusk is no gentler when he discusses Britain’s position in the EU. In early November David Cameron, the prime minister, will send Mr Tusk a letter outlining his requests for a “renegotiation” of Britain’s membership. It will fall to Mr Tusk to seek the common ground between what Mr Cameron needs and what his 27 counterparts can accept, particularly on Britain’s demands to reduce welfare payments to EU immigrants (Mr Cameron’s foot-dragging could postpone serious talks until next spring, possibly pushing Britain’s promised in/out referendum into 2017). Mr Tusk says that his role is clear: to help Mr Cameron keep Britain in the EU. But he worries that the process could encourage other countries to demand their own opt-outs and exemptions. For Britain to be a “role model” for everyone, he warns, would mean “the end of the EU”.

Beyond the EU’s borders, the limits of his power are becoming clearer. With fighting raging in Ukraine, Mr Tusk took office vowing a tough line on Russia. His opinions have not changed, but he now accepts that the EU can do little for Crimea or the Donbas. While Germany and France have taken the political lead in talking to Russia about Ukraine, the challenge for the EU, says Mr Tusk, is internal: to defy Vladimir Putin’s attempts to foster division in Europe. So far the EU has held the line on sanctions (which require unanimous backing, and must soon be renewed). Passing this test, which Mr Tusk describes as Europe’s first big challenge since 1989, bodes well for future crises, he says.

Perhaps the new job has mellowed the president: his happiness now rests on that of the leaders whose meetings he oversees. At a euro-zone summit Mr Tusk chaired in July, for example, it took 17 hours to find a deal that kept Greece inside the currency. This is a drastic change from his time in Poland, when, he acknowledges, he had “very limited” tolerance for political wrangling. Still, unlike the many Eurocrats who seem to have spent their whole lives in the EU’s unlovely bureaucratic buildings, Mr Tusk retains a whiff of the outsider. His approach has not been to everyone’s taste: he has pricked the egos of ambassadors, for example, by declining to meet them as often as his predecessor did. But most admit that he is warming to his role.

Avoiding “no more Europe”

Mr Tusk describes himself as an “obsessive pro-European” rather than a federalist. That distinction might once have been difficult to parse. Not today: the EU’s problems, from the integrity of its single currency to the security of its borders, cut to the heart of national sovereignty—but they also lead irresistibly to the logic of co-operation, if not its practice.

The creation of Mr Tusk’s job in the prelapsarian Lisbon treaty of 2007 was for some the first step towards a “president of Europe”. That the task should now fall to one who accepts the primacy of national governments is no surprise. Mr Tusk, never having succumbed to the dream of a federal Europe, does not regret its demise. He accepts German leadership, with the caveat that “not everything that is good for Germany is good for Europe.” Instead, he has set himself a humbler task: to ensure that Europe’s stream of crises does not entirely wash away the old order.

Unlike the sermonisers of yore, who preached More Europe and predicted the end times for nation-states, Mr Tusk is more like a life coach, gently urging Europe’s anxious leaders to find the courage to face up to hard but unavoidable challenges. Others may build Europe; he will try to keep it from falling apart.

This article appeared in the Europe section of the print edition under the headline "A task for Tusk"

question: Summarize the challenges faced by the Donald Tusk as President of the European Council.

answer: Tusk sees the major challenge in Europe as the need to shore up Europe's liberal values against the threat from populism. His mantra is to retake control of Europe's borders through which hundreds of thousands of refugees and other migrants have flowed over the past year. Another challenge is to keep Britain in the EU by trying to accommodate its changing demands, but without making too many exemptions that other countries will want as well. Tusk's power is limited in curbing Russia's expanding political might, but his challenge is to ensure unity in the EU thereby defying Putin's attempts at division. He wants to ensure that Europe's stream of crises do not entirely wash away the old order.

question: Summarize the views of Donald Tusk's critics.

answer: Tusk was president of Poland for 7 years, and his critics feel that it is a relatively new member of the European Union and was outside the euro. He has an abrasive style that seemed an ill fit for the consensual methods preferred in Brussels. He worked to improve his English, but cannot speak French. Tusk does not see ambassadors as often as his predecessors did. He does not support the idea of federal Europe, but supports the primacy of national governments.

question: Summarize all the information relating to the German chancellor Angela Merkel.

question: Summarize all the information relating to politics in Poland.

answer: Donald Tusk was the president of Poland for 7 years before being appointed as the president of the European Council, he was the leader of the centre-right Civic Platform party. Poland joined the European Union barely ten years' before Tusk's appointment and remained outside the the euro. Poland has young democratic politics where abrasive styles are effective. Nationalists have just ejected Civic Platform, adding to a drive to secure borders to, paradoxically, ensure openness across the EU. Poland enforces sanctions against Russia.


text:
**The Pro.**

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ain't no way," she says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

title: The Pro.(short fiction)

question: Summarize the narrator's relationship with Ten Pin.

answer: The narrator clearly knows Ten Pin, and appears to want to challenge him. The narrator recognizes Ten Pin's truck in the parking lot, and recognizes him once he is inside. The narrator also asks for a lane next to Ten Pin, and is hoping that he has already warmed up.

question: Summarize how the narrator feels about bowling.

answer: The narrator clearly has had experience with bowling since he has his own bag of equipment. According to the narrator, Gutter Ball's is where men take bowling seriously. The narrator is also confident enough in their bowling skills to challenge Ten Pin.

question: Summarize the narrator's relationship with Gutter Ball.

answer: The narrator meets Gutter Ball during the story. At first Gutter Ball is rude towards the narrator, but quickly warms to him after the narrator says he wants to challenge Ten Pin. The narrator isn't sure what to think of Ten Pin, whether he should like him or hate him.


text:
[]
Providing Superior Health and

Balance Through Chiropractic

678-754-6877

[]
Providing Superior Health and

Balance Through Chiropractic

678-754-6877

[]

Dr. Z. Coleman is a board certified chiropractic doctor by the National Board of Chiropractic Examiners. She joins ANWAN Wellness Medical Center team seven years ago, as Dir. of Physical Medicine Dept., with a wealth of experience in preventive.

“Chiropractic care is more than just making the pain disappear. it is about learning, understanding and taking care of your body to improve your quality of life.”

As a chiropractor, we understand that although our patients may be diagnosed with the same condition, they respond very differently to treatments. for this reason, we tailor a specific plan of action to meet your needs, goals & unique medical and physical condition.

Our Process

We are proud to provide a state-of-the-art facility for the highest quality chiropractic care available. It is one of our top priorities to protect the well-being of our valued patients. We are confident that you will feel right at home in our office as we welcome all patients as if they were family.

If you would like to make an appointment, please contact our office by phone or email. Our office facilitates communications and emergency calls and appointments are available and welcome, especially for new patients seeking help.

We will be more than happy to submit all insurance forms for you and help you recover the most from your benefits. We will do everything we can to help you afford the treatment you need and want. Forms of payment accepted by the office are check, cash, or any major credit card.

If you are unable to keep an appointment, we ask that you kindly provide us with at least 24 hours notice. We ask for this advance notice so that we can offer this appointment to another patient. A fee may be charged if a patient does not show up for an appointment without sufficient notice.

“Subscribe to our news letter.”

[contact-form-7 404 "Not Found"]

WELLNESS TIPS

Posture. Posture. Posture. Make sure that you keep your chin up and don’t slouch. If you know that you are going to be standing for a long period of time, make sure that you wear comfortable shoes.

WORKING AT A DESK

[]

Make sure that you are getting up every 20 minutes to stretch. The type of chair you have is extremely important. It should fit you correctly so that your back touches the chair and your feet are on the floor with knees at a 90 degree angle. Try to avoid looking down at your computer screen. It should be at eye level.

SITTING

[]

Make sure you have a chair that is supportive. When you are forced to sit for a long period of time, for instance at a desk job, make sure to get up and stretch every 20 minutes. Sit with your back against the chair, feet firmly on the floor. Do not cross your legs.

LIFTING

[]

Lifting objects is one of the most common ways to injure yourself. Even if it is a light object, twisting or pulling in the wrong direction when you’re not stretched out can have a damaging effect on muscles and the spine. You always want to bend at the knees and avoid lifting anything you know is too heavy.

ASK A QUESTION

question: What is chiropractic if it is not just a way of care?

answer: Chiropractic is more about improving ones quality of life than just getting care.  The article gives several tips for Wellness, such as posture, giving oneself time to stretch, making sure to use the right chair, and being careful while lifting objects. These are all ways chiropractic can improve one's life.


text:
There was an old cow winding through old Mr. Raybek's garden. She was tied to the porch railing with a long and frayed rope ending in a very loose knot. Her meandering kept the vegetables well crushed, and the squished squash and dill secreted their essence from their trampled beds, wafted through the chilly morning air, plucked some of Cattlina's hair, drifted through the steam from the farmer's morning tea, and tickled his nostrils.

Remus Reybek could tell you, if you stopped scoffing at his name and bothered to ask, that there's nothing quite like a Nebraskan morning in late September. Most Americans avoid the area like a leper colony, but those precious few whose pastures are quilted horizons for the New Yorker in his jet--those reserved and rosy rednecks who might hit their children a little too hard, but will *never* ask their neighbors for money--they'll tell you about ripe winds that gallop in from all directions. How they drop the taint of Las Vegas and Quebec at the border and enter Nebraska with a fresh outlook on life. They'll tell you how hopeful and enthusiastic the wind is, as if Gatsby finally recovered his past, and was casting his ritz and exuberance all over the state (which so modestly avoided any extravagant displays of wealth itself). They might--at least the more contemplative Nebraskans might--solemnly chew their cud and muse on the mighty autumn paradox on the prairie. All the velvety smells and colors begin to seep into your very hide, and you might mourn the beautiful leaves and grasses that begin to wrinkle, crinkle, and fold. But don't they also blush and blow kisses before they fade? What is their death but a fresh new bounty? Each drooping bush is smooching her seedy children and giving them last minute advice. *Check the oil, and don't forget to write!* Each withering lavender is swinging her hips at the amorous, aging bees. All the rose petals might have fallen, but a single rosehip shines brilliant red on top of each stalk. And the immoderate wind, who is very fond of Life, caries those flirty leaves and college-bound seeds across the skyline in an act of blazing glory. Nebraska is where the old and the new embrace for the last time.

Cattlina and Remus, however, were both old, and neither did much embracing those days. Well, there was a bull who stood at the fence across the road and mooed absolutely *filthy* suggestions to Cattlina, who couldn't pretend she wasn't flattered, but she'd been around the pasture a few times and knew those types were only out for a bit of cow tipping. No, Cattlina preferred the security and companionship she found with Remus, who brushed her every day and let her peruse the vegetable garden. She hummed at him affectionately, and he raised his mug in return.

Seven o'clock rolled out with the mist, and eight was positively golden. Remus finished his tea and tugged Cattlina's knot loose. The two of them took regular morning walks unless the wind got too raucous, in which case they'd shout for some damn peace and quiet as Remus banged his broom against the roof: * Pipe down up there! Some of us work for a living!* But this morning the wind was playing a quiet panpipe/banjo duet with the elms, and Cattlina lowed a couple of backup harmonies as Remus held open the gate. What a gentleman.

Their property was tucked into the armpit of a wide swell in the prairie. It couldn't exactly be called a hill, though it was the tallest point for miles. Nevertheless, Nebraskans have a grander sense of topography than the Manhattan dweller, even when he's airbound. When you live on America's naked torso, arching out for ever and ever, her curves and dimples lose their immediacy, and you begin to see how a dip here is only the intro to a muscular bulge there. Creeks and rivulets are just pores. Nebraska's smattering of trees are the downy hairs running along her abdomen toward... *Well.*

Those were Remus's thoughts, anyway. Cattlina might have argued that the golden crops were the spiky hairs on America's tough hide, or she might have mentioned the oil wells like open fly sores in the Dakotas, or shed a tear for those runny eyes of the Great Lakes. But you didn't ask her, did you?

You see, Cattlina was a well traveled cow. Born in the icy Minnesotan spring, she'd spent her early days drinking water out of the melting lake, gamboling after white butterflies, and shining prettily at 4-H and FFA shows. But her boy, Dallon, whom she loved so much, sold her to a common breeder of burger patties in Wisconsin. Every year she was cramped in a dark room while some half-crazed bull rutted and humped her, painfully knocking her knees into their tight plastic restraints. The rest of the time she wallowed in a wide muddy pen with hundreds of her fellow sex slaves. Her babies were taken away, although some of the females came back as fresh concubines. She wasn't sure which was worse: This life of monotony and violence or the short visit to a slaughterhouse? Sometimes she would spy a beautiful cow about her own age on a nearby green hill. Between fence posts, this lovely figure would graze serenely at real clover. Come dinner time, Cattlina would eye her own trough of protein-infused mush with resentment and, increasingly, rebellion.

But it pained her to think too much of the past. Remus was different from her first little boy, different from the hard men who ran the breeding house--this at least she knew with rare certainty as she watched Remus pick through the wheat and sunflower skeletons. They were two peas in a pod, she and he.

Speaking of pods, a milkweed parachute pod whizzed past Remus's cheek on its way to its first apartment. It was the last child out of the family home, and its nervousness had evaporated like the seven o'clock mist. It whirled and *whee!*-ed its way up the swell, flipping off its siblings that had dropped early out of the wind. Remus caught a whiff of the pod's zeal and began to tramp upward at a brisker pace than usual. Even steady old Cattlina allowed herself a subtle trot, but to her great embarrassment she frightened a pheasant into undignified flight. It, too, flapped after the pod, and it was this strange procession--the pod, the pheasant, the farmer, and the cow--that met the baby at the crest of America's smallest lovehandle.

title: Americas Smallest Lovehandle--an intro to a longer story. What do you think?

question: Why is Cattlina referred to as a sex slave?

answer: She is forced to stand still for mating with dozens of males.

question: What is meant by the "baby at the crest of America's smallest love handle"?

answer: It means together the trio embody the innocence and gentleness of the American spirit, and that they are meeting dusk.

question: Why did Dalton sell Cattlina?

answer: It's likely he needed the money.

question: Why does Cattlina think Remus is like her?

answer: Remus is gentle and respects Cattlina.


text:
> A short story I wrote 5 years ago. Don't know why I thought of it while driving around town and not sure why I'm posting it either. Enjoy.

He pondered the very definition of sanity as he walked down the nearly-abandoned midnight sidewalk, his footsteps creating crunching noises in the snow. The eerie orange glow of the street lamps combined with the light of the full moon lay contrasting shadows on the ground below. He took another deep puff from his cigarette and held it before exhaling. What's more likely, he thought to himself. That I'm the last sane person on Earth, or I'm just insane. He had been following this line of thought for some time now and the most recent of events led him to this lonely sidewalk in downtown.

Just a few hours before, he was at a bar with some of his co-workers. He felt like he fit right in, that after a troubled childhood of being the consistent social outcast, he was finally a part of a group. They joked, hollered at the female bar patrons, and did the generally accepted bar routine---get drunk, laugh loud, and try to get laid. He actually felt like a part of them, and was in a euphoric high from the social acceptance and group mentality. Then it happened, as it always does eventually. He saw himself from outside of his body and didn't recognize his behavior. This isn't me, he thought to himself. This is who they want me to be. So, as always, he made up some excuse for leaving prematurely.

"Sorry guys, I forgot I gotta be home before ten when the misses arrives.", he said.

"You aren't married man, why the hell do you have a curfew?", asked James.

"I know---but..." At least they bought it, he thought to himself. There's nobody waiting for me.

"Sound's like someone's pussy-whipped!", Mike said while making a whip gesture.

"Fuck off, Mike. At least I'm getting some.", he replied. "Seriously though, I gotta bounce."

"Alright man, you straight to drive?"

"I'm going to just walk home, I'm only a few blocks down.", he said, and paid his tab. "I'll catch you guys tomorrow."

"Later man."

"Peace."

And he left the bar for his empty apartment.

As soon as he walked out of the bar, he knew something wasn't right---not wrong either, but not right. Nothing looked out of place, nobody was out there waiting for him, but he could just feel it. And by now in his life, he had learned to trust his intuition. Weary, but determined not to let an odd feeling slow him down, he lit a cigarette and walked down the lonely sidewalk. Why am I such an outcast? he thought to himself. Why do I always get nervous around new people? He didn't follow this train of thought for long though, because he had done it many times before and got nowhere. Deep in thought, he didn't even see her until he was nearly on top of her. In the split second before the collision, he caught just a glimpse of her talking on a cell phone. She was beautiful, enough to make him trip over the sidewalk, right in to her.

"Jesus man! Watch where you're going!", she exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, I was just... I don't know."

"Well, pay more attention next time." she said, and stormed off, engaging in the cell conversation once again.

"Jeez..." he said, more to himself than to her, and took another puff off of his cigarette.

title: Snowfall

question: What was the narrator pondering while he walked the lonely sidewalk of downtown?

answer: He was contemplating if he was the last sane person on Earth or if he'd gone insane.

question: Why was he so happy to be socially accepted amongst his co-workers?

answer: Because he had a troubled childhood of being the consistent social outcast.

question: Explain why all of a sudden he made up an excuse to leave the bar prematurely.

answer: He realized he wasn't being himself and was being who they wanted him to be.

question: What caused him to collide with another passerby on the sidewalk?

answer: He was deep in thought and didn't see the beautiful girl.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The man was contemplating for a while wondering if he had gone insane or not. Earlier in the night he was so happy about being socially accepted by his co-workers but quickly realized he wasn't being himself, he made up an excuse and left the gathering prematurely.


text:
Hi Reddit!  This is a true story (I think) that I was told by my camp counselor when I was 10. I forget some of the minor details, but this is pretty much what happened. I'm not sure if this is the right place to put this, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

A few years ago, he and a friend rented their professor's house over the summer, since he was going away for a month. It was nice place, and they got to enjoy each other's company. However, almost every night, they would hear banging and weird noises coming from the basement. When they went down in the morning, there was nothing there. They decided that it was probably an animal, so they decided to leave out a trap to capture whatever was in the basement at night. The next morning, they went downstairs to find a large bobcat growling (I think they growl) and hissing in the cage. He was about to call animal control to take it away, when the friend had the idea to bring it themselves outside to save animal control some trouble. However, the cage was far to bulky and heavy to carry it outside while unfolded and containing a bobcat. Without any real equipment, they decided to take one of their suitcases and put it open next to the door of the cage. He opened the door while his friend scared it away from the back of the cage. It dashed to freedom, but quickly came in contact with the suitcase. He slammed it shut, trapping the bobcat inside. Now, it was much easier to carry. They both loaded the suitcase into their truck and started driving toward the nearby forest area (they lived in Maine). They pulled onto the side of the road, set the suitcase on the ground, unzipped it about halfway, and climbed up a nearby tree so the bobcat wouldn't attack them when it got out. They waited, but it never came out. They were too scared to come down, in case it came out, and didn't know what to do. Suddenly, after about 10 minutes, a minivan pulled up next to their car. Someone got out, looked around (they didn't see my counselor and his friend in the tree), grabbed the suitcase, and got back in the van, which drove away. They instantly knew that something bad was about to happen, so they climbed back down the tree, got in their car, and sped off after the van. However, the van must have been going fast, because they couldn't see the van at all. About 2 miles after that, they started to enter farmland, with tall cornstalks bordering the road on each side. Suddenly, they saw tire skid-marks on the road, and a section of corn flattened, by what looked like a car. They stopped the car, got out, and ran to the flattened corn. About a hundred yards in, they saw the minivan stopped and the doors opened. As they got closer, they saw that nobody was inside, and there was blood on one of the seats. They never figured out what happened to the people in the van or the bobcat.

I hope that you enjoyed. I'm sorry if their are any grammatical errors, this is my first story!

title: The Bobcat

question: What was in the basement?

answer: There was a bobcat in the basement.

question: Where did the bobcat disappear?

answer: It may be implied that the bobcat was taken away in the minivan.

question: Where did the van go?

answer: The minivan went into farmland with tall cornstalks bordering the road.

question: Was the bobcat in the van?

answer: No.

question: Write a ~8 sentence summary.

answer:
The narrator's counselor and his friend had rented their professor's house for the summer. They would hear banging in the basement every night. Upon investigating, they find out it was a bobcat.

The two of them put the bobcat in a suitcase and head to the forest. They leave the suitcase unzipped and wait for the bobcat to come out. Instead, a minivan comes, grabs the suitcase, and drives away.

The two men follow the minivan and ultimately find it in a farmland with the doors open. The minivan had blood on one of the seats and there was nobody to be seen around.


text:
"What a waste of time." The apathetic voice rattled my conscience as I stood gazing upon the grave of whom such thoughts originated. I was unsure if the sentiment was born out of my memories of Walter while he was alive or the ground itself. Either way, I suppose I was looking for answers to questions I hadn't yet conceived and these five words made me question my presence here tonight.

"Seems appropriate a dead guy would caution the living about time," I replied to precisely no one. The cold night gathered these words inches from my face in a white cloud before they disappeared, along with the ambition that drove me three hours to my late friend's final resting place. Walter responded with a question.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" A valid inquiry. It was at this moment I understood that tonight was not about my questions. Tonight was about providing answers, which I owed Walter even in his death. I took a seat in order to be closer to my dear friend.

"It wouldn't have made a difference." A cop-out. It would have made all the difference. I suppose Walter already knew this. He did not question me to seek information; he questioned me because, even as a corpse, he understood I needed to come clean.

I sat with my eyes closed awaiting a response that never came. After a few minutes I sat up and didn't even bother brushing myself off. The flashlight that led me from my car to Walter's grave with such precision flickered for a few seconds before shutting off completely. Despite this inconvenience my memory was able to lead me back, and I hoped it would serve this function again someday.

Walter was right. What a waste of time.

title: Walter

question: Who is talking when the story begins?

answer: It might either be the thoughts of the narrator or Walter.

question: Who died before this story started?

answer: Walter

question: Does the narrator plan on returning to the grave?

answer: Yes.

question: How did Walter die?

answer: More information is needed to answer the question.

question: What was a waste of time?

answer: Visiting Walter's grave

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator is visiting a grave of a friend. He feels responsible in some capacity for their death.


text:
This is my first story, so sorry if it's bad!

You guys have been asking for it. So here it is. My story.
On September 19, 1998, Kathy Logan gave birth to a girl named Amy. That girl was me. Or so I thought. Though I shouldn’t get to that until later, I don’t want to confuse you.
Under the care of Kathy and her husband Jake, I lived happily for 14 years. Nice house, always fed, given many things. I was very spoiled..
School was never a huge problem for me. It is a preppy private school. I wasn’t popular, but I wasn’t a loser either. I was kind of just average. I had a group of very close friends, and we were all very happy. We did some things I am not very proud of, like bullying the scholarships and playing pranks on teachers. If I had known what I have felt like in the past year, I would have stopped. I thought my friends and I stuck together through everything, no matter what.  I was wrong, because when I hit 15, everything changed.
This isn’t an average story about a girl who went to high school, and suddenly “her life changed, and everything was different.” This is a story about a girl who found out her whole life was a lie. One lie so big it had to be kept from everyone, because if it wasn’t, the world would know the real truth. So a lie turned into a secret. And this secret was one that could get anyone involved in a lot of trouble. One secret so big, yet so small, because only two people were in on it. And 2 can keep a secret if one of them is dead, right? My (fake) father certainly thought so.
Now I have to confess something. I told everyone reading this a lie. That’s right, remember the first paragraph where it said that Kathy Logan gave birth to me? Well that isn’t the truth. Kathy Logan didn’t exist until after I was born. And neither did Jake.
The truth is that my birth mother gave birth to me on September 19, 1998. But that was not her first birth. She had had not one, not two, not three, but five other births. And I would be the last one.
I was with my birth parents and siblings for six months. Six months of normality and of truth. Unfortunately that is the only amount of time I’ve ever had my life like that, and I barely remember it.
On October 14, 1999, my mother told me to go play outside. With me refusing, she put me out there saying that I needed fresh air, and I hadn’t had any that day when my siblings already had. We had a large backyard apparently, and in my anger I went to the far corner of the yard. It was from there I watched my house burn down.
I didn’t remember this until I was told it. I now remember sirens, and smoke, and I didn’t comprehend much more than that. But then I remember a man picking me up. And it wasn’t a firefighter. It was the man who started the fire, along with his wife. They adopted me as their own, renamed me Amy, and changed their names to Kathy and Jake Logan. That’s right, I don’t know my actual first or last name.
But as I said before, I was never told this. My life was a lie. I didn’t find out by somebody telling me. I found out by another death. The death of Kathy Logan.
Behind every death is a motive. I have mentioned two killings already. And those motives were the two most common motives out there. Money and disagreement.
I never knew why my (fake) parents had so much money. They didn’t seem to work that hard. I didn’t find it odd. But it was. And my “close” friends noticed.
My birth parents had money. I don’t know much about them, not even their names, but money is the one thing I do know about them. Because it was not our priceless pictures or our clothes that were saved from the fire. It was our money. And it was saved by – you guessed it – Jake and Kathy Logan.
So then why did Kathy die? I said disagreement but that doesn’t give much away. It was because Kathy, even though she had done some horrible things in her life, cared about me. Had some good in her. Jake on the other hand did not.
Kathy wanted to tell me. Everything. She thought I cared about them too much to tell. And if I hadn’t known that she was going to tell me, I might have told the police. But I have some forgiveness in me.
So Jake choked her to death. And covered his tracks perfectly by staging a hanging. Said there was too much pressure on her at work, and nobody suspected a thing. Because little did he know I was a witness. Of both of his killings. Another thing he didn’t know is that Kathy wrote a letter to me in the event that this would happen. She made sure Jake wouldn’t get it and it would go directly to me. And that is how I found out about what happened.
After that, everything changed. I became depressed, heartbroken, and I could barely look at my father. My friends also started to neglect me. I don’t know why, I didn’t tell them anything, but they started to think I was broke because I was depressed. I wasn’t rich, which apparently I had to be to be their friend. They left me at the time I needed them most. And so I got lonely.
I told another lie. The first line of this book was “You guys have been asking for it.” But there is no “you guys.” It’s just me, myself and I. And so I’m faced with the decision whether to do Kathy good and not tell on Jake, or tell on him and have the satisfaction of seeing him get locked up.
Last night I had a dream. I was playing chess with Jake. The pieces on my side were my birth family and Kathy, and me as the king. He took every one of my pieces, and put his piece in the perfect position to beat me. It felt like hours passed and I couldn’t decide what to do. He started to get impatient. Finally he smiled coldly and said, “Your move, Amy.”

title: Lies

question: What is the twist in this story?

answer: Her parents are not her real parents.

question: Who dies in the story?

answer: Amy's real parents.

question: Why did Amy's fake parents want to kill her real parents?

answer: They had money.

question: What is Amy struggling with at the end of the story?

answer: Whether to go to the police about her fake father, Jake.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The story is about a girl named Amy who discovers her parents are not actually her parents. Then her false father kills her mother, and she has to decide whether to go to the police or not.


text:
[BFZ-Prerelease-Guide-Logo-bigger-trimmed]Your store runs a great prerelease. It’s fun, players show up and are happy cracking packs from a new set, and have a blast jamming Magic with their buddies with cards they’ve never seen before. Awesome.

You know what, though?  The store up the highway _also _runs a great prerelease. And they do it differently. That’s cool.  What can you learn from them, and them from you?

The goal of this article is to talk about some of the common things we are doing at prereleases, things you may not do at your prereleases that could improve them, and some Battle for Zendikar specific things that will make your event exciting.

[]

Survey Background
This summer at the Magic Origins prereleases, we ran a survey across a number of stores, talking to players for feedback on how their prerelease experiences went.  Some of this article will talk about the survey information we gathered, and how you can gather similar data at your store so you can find out what players like and don’t like about your prereleases.

COMMUNICATION

[]

The majority of comments and criticism came from a fundamental issue of communication between the judge and the players.  This is one of the most important things that can help both your effectiveness as a judge and the amount of enjoyment players get out of your events.

Effective communication first begins with making sure that you’re establishing the proper expectations for how the event is going to be run.  Will there be side events, special deals in the store for prerelease participants, or other events you want the players to be made aware of? Will start times be adjusted in case of late comers to the store and the TO wanting to make sure they can get everyone involved that they can?

Make sure that you have all the information you need before you can effectively communicate it to your players, and make sure to get that out to everyone during your announcements so you can focus on the event as it’s happening.

ANNOUNCEMENTS

[]

The most important thing about prerelease announcements is clarity.  Make sure to have very clear instructions at the beginning, especially when it comes to logistics.

Where players should be sitting to receive their card pool, what they will be getting, when you will begin deckbuilding, where the land is, where pairings will be posted, and how to report match results so you can enter them quickly. This is a lot of official things we talk about every event which will bore some store regulars, and that’s OK.  You’re making sure everyone is on the same page with your announcements and that everything is 100% clear to everyone involved.

INFORMATION AIDS

ANNOUNCEMENT HELPER
We have put together a one-page announcement aid for your prerelease.  It covers all the things you want to know and talk about at the start of the event.
[Announcement Guide Thumbnail]
LEAFLET
We also have a more in-depth info leaflet.  The first two pages are general event info – feel free to print and share this if you would like.  The third and final page is a few things for you to remember as you run your events.
[Leaflet Thumbnail]

WHAT SHOULD YOUR ANNOUNCEMENTS COVER?

-   Welcome! (Introduce the store, yourself, thank players for coming)
-   Deckbuilding Guidelines (40 Card Minimum, continuous build, Regular REL)
-   Remind players what could result in a DQ (Rolling a die, Bribery, Aggressive Behavior)
-   New Rules (Vancouver Mulligans, No Seeded Packs, Devoid, Ingest, etc)
-   2HG Rules if applicable
-   Time/Round Limits (minimum 30 minute deckbuild usually until everyone is clearly done, 50 min rounds)
-   Prize Support (confirm with TO before announcing)
-   Questions on specific card interactions? (Be Prepared!)
-   Remind everyone to HAVE FUN!

Make sure to tailor your announcements to your store and your players.  If the players at your shop tend to leave all their prerelease material laying around, ask them to keep an eye on their stuff so nobody mixes their cards together by accident or loses their stuff.  If you know there are a lot of smokers in the crowd, remind them of round times a little more aggressively so they know when they should be out smoking and when they should get back in the store to get playing.
If you feel there are more newer players who don’t play often in tournaments, make sure to remind the room about improperly determining the results of a match. Consider adding an announcement in the last two rounds reminding everyone something along the lines of “We’re having a lot of fun, and want to keep it that way, so make sure that these last few matches are determined by playing Magic and not offering anything to your opponent for a result!”

EVENT EFFICIENCY

[]

One of the easiest points where you can begin in making sure that the Prereleases are as positive and fun for your players is being well prepared for the event, and making sure that it runs smoothly and on time.

There are a lot of standard things the store should have – most of these you won’t have to worry too much about.  Computer with WER, printer with plenty of ink or toner, existence of product and tables are all things the TO is responsible for.  Checking in on these is good, but should not need more than a little bit of confirmation.

Having a plan for the room is also helpful to be able to navigate collecting sealed decklists (if you opt to use them – most prereleases should not use decklists), for distributing sealed pools, and making sure your players can find their seats quickly. Also, clearly marking landmarks such as where pairings will be posted can save a lot of time turning rounds over. A clean and clearly laid out room reinforces a professional and efficient experience for everyone involved.

Finally, making the event run properly includes a special emphasis on deck build. This is the time where you can really get to know your players and demonstrate to them that you know them and care about their experience. Our survey shows that players want to see their judges more involved with helping them get better at the game. You can find certain players you have gotten to know and help them out with their builds if they need it, or help them decide between builds that they end up on the fence about. This may be for more inexperienced players but this is the point where you can show them that you’re there to help, not just issue them game losses and whatnot in the future.

JUDGE PERCEPTION

[]

While communication between judges and players was certainly the most mentioned as a result of our survey, there was a startlingly high number of comments made about how judges are perceived by the players.

Whether it be a passive and silent arbiter, or an uninterested robot who could easily be replaced by the internet (real examples from our survey!) it’s difficult for some players to understand who we are, what we do, and most importantly what we bring to the game.

[]

So how can you make sure that the prerelease is fun for everyone involved? It’s simple. Have fun yourself! Many judges who get the most positive reviews from players often get commented that it seems that they’re having fun, and that’s absolutely infectious to players. Engage the room, get excited when someone casts a monstrous Eldrazi, opens an Ulamog or Planeswalker, and just find ways to make sure you’re having as much fun as you can and you will be remembered positively for it.

PLAYER FEEDBACK

[]

We strongly encourage every judge who works closely with a single store to gather feedback on their performance, either in the form of a survey or something less formal. How you become better at anything comes down to repetition with constant feedback. Just as in our Reviews on Judge Apps, and how we advise each other with feedback at events, our players are the best source for honest unbiased feedback on how well you’re performing, and where you can perhaps improve.

We ended up taking this survey at the Magic Origins prerelease, and a note from many judges were that they asked random players for a few minutes of their time between rounds and would ask a few standardized questions, but try to have genuine conversations as to how they felt and explore topics that the players brought up when being questioned.

[]

So please, feel free to put together some questions that can help you understand where you can provide a better experience for your players. Be sure to ask for complete honesty, and ask for things that may be more specific to your LGS – how has your performance been in the past? Do they have any negative experiences from the past they’d like to discuss or mention? What positive memories do they have of judges? You can even ask what they feel about how the Battle for Zendikar prerelease is being run and proactively start working on what you’re going to do for Oath of the Gatewatch!

TIME FOR YOUR FEEDBACK

Now it’s time for us to turn the table on you. What do you want to see from this project? How do you feel you could use improvement or training, and how could we best present that for you?

Drop us a line at MTGPlayerExperience@gmail.com – we love to talk about what Judges can be doing better.  If you are interested in being part of the Customer Service project, as a judge or player, get in touch with Rob McKenzie[] and he can get you added.

CREDITS

[Marcos Sanchez Article]

MARCOS SANCHEZ
Article

[AJ Kerrigan Survey Management]

AJ KERRIGAN
Survey Management

[Jacob Kriner Prerelease Announcement Helper and Leaflet]

JACOB KRINER
Prerelease Announcement Helper and Leaflet

[Charles Featherer Prerelease Announcement Helper and Leaflet]

CHARLES FEATHERER
Prerelease Announcement Helper and Leaflet

question: Where did the majority of comments and criticism come from?

answer: Fundamental issues of communication between the judge and the players.

question: What is the most important thing about prerelease announcements?

answer: Clarity.

question: What should the reader tailor their announcements to?

answer: Their store and their players.

question: What is the best way for judges to connect with players?

answer: By having fun themselves.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The author recommends that judges find ways to connect with players at tournaments for the Magic card games, and reflects on feedback that players have given judges at previous tournaments. The author lays out ground rules for how to make sure tournaments are the most effective and enjoyable for all concerned.


text:
*This story was written to go along with a picture I found of a young german soldier with bandages on his hands surrendering to a US army soldier during the Battle of The Bulge.*

When we saw the tanks, our instinct was to run. We ran until we were hidden in the forest, and we kept running until the cold wind burned our faces and our lungs filled with frost. I collapsed under a small pine tree, cold flakes of snow sprinkling down from the green needles.

Sitting there, trying to catch my breath, I realized I couldn’t hear anything but the sound of tank engines in the distance. Not even Kraus’ asthmatic wheezing that i’d grown so accustomed to. I slowly peeked from under the pine, only to see more trees and snow, and beyond that, the hazy pastures of some Belgian farmer. I sighed quietly, despair gripping me. How could I have let myself be separated from the others so easily? They were running beside me not five minutes ago, and now god knows where they could be. I suppose I could go look for them and risk running into the Americans, or I could wait here for a while and try to find my way back to our lines when night falls. So, I sat back down under the pine tree, with wispy snow drifts surrounding me just enough to keep away the wind.

I hated being alone now. Not just because of my situation, but because it gave me time to think. Think about the pain, the cold, the hunger, and above all else, question why any of this had to happen. Why are we still fighting this war? It’s down to old men and boys like me to defend the “almighty Fatherland”. Just take a look at my squad. A family man with a breathing condition, a typographer who’s old enough to be my grandfather, a guy who has a limp because he suffered from polio as a child, and of course the Feldwebel.

He served on the eastern front - a fate no German soldier would wish on anybody - and was injured badly by a mortar round. It blew up the room he was bedding in, masking the left side of his face in scars and killing three men. Because of this, the side of his head was always a deep shade of red and his ear remained nothing but a hole. And my god was he an angry man. Having to serve again after what he had been through left him with nothing but contempt for the war. Yet right now, I wished he and the others were right here with me.

Looking down at my hands, I realized that I had begun bleeding through my bandages again. I watched as a small drop of crimson fell from the dirty cloth and landed in the snow between my legs, creating a small dot of colour in this drab landscape. I lost the pinky and ring finger on my left hand two days ago when a blasting cap I was carrying to Kraus blew up in my hands. Between the cold and the burns, the pain has gone, and i’m not sure whether that’s a blessing or not.

The sound of engines rolling through the forest nearby raised in volume, as did the beating of my heart.

It’s hard to believe that eight months ago I was in my home celebrating my seventeenth birthday with my family. Remembering the look on their faces when I walked into the house and found them waiting for me, laughing and yelling surprise. And then the look on their faces as the truck drove off with me and other men, not a week later. It makes me wish more than anything that I was with them again.

I feel my eyes watering up and I squeeze them shut hard, the tears starting to freeze on my eyelashes already. When I open my eyes I can see the pastures just past the forest. And in them a I see a small convoy of Americans. Lifting my back off of the tree, I climb out from my little shelter of snowbanks. Before I even realize entirely what i’m doing, i’ve walked past the trees and begun up the small hill. I make it another hundred yards before I see an American soldier motion towards me. Raising my bandaged hands above my head I continue walking towards them. Two of them break away from their group and walk towards me. The one on the left raises his pistol as we near, and I notice the other raise a camera. I look my captor in the eyes and I hear a snap. This is the most afraid and relieved i’ve ever been, but I know one thing for sure. At least it’s over.

title: [HF] An End To Suffering

question: What does the story say about how the Feldwebel in the narrator's squad felt about the war?

answer: The Feldwebel was a former German soldier who served on the eastern front. He suffered severe wounds from a mortar round during the war when his room got blown up by the enemy. As a result, three men died, and he lost his left ear; he also had a permanent scar on the left side of his head. He developed nothing but hatred and bitterness towards the current war because he was forced to serve the country again.

question: What does the story say about the cause of the war?

question: What does the story say about how the narrator was recruited for the war?

answer: Soldiers took the narrator away from his family, against his will, to join the war only one week after celebrating his seventeenth birthday. Because the government needed soldiers, every man, young or old, experienced or inexperienced, was forcefully recruited into the army to defend the country against the Americans. In the end, the Americans captured him.


text:
*This is my first piece of work. I got up this morning inspired to write something. I have no title for it. Without further ado:*

I didn’t have to see. I could feel his look of disgust.

*Click*

“C’mon, Jack.”

He stood there with the bullet just inches away from my face.

“You won’t do it.”

I knew he didn’t have the heart to.

“Ha, you don’t think I will?” In the next second there was a thunderous boom. Immediately I felt a sharp, hot pain in my arm.

I saw it coming. “MOTHERF...”

He barely flinched; he was still in the same pose, arm stretched out, pistol pointed at me. I looked up. The blood gathered at the lower part of his sleeve and seeped out one drop at a time, counting the silence between us.

Amazing how much pain one could withstand when expecting it.
Even more amazing is what one is capable of doing on an irrational impulse.

The blood dripped from his fingers like hot wax.

The smoke from the barrel had subsided and I stared harder into the mirror. He pointed the gun away from my face and towards his own head.

“You won’t do it.”

I smiled. I didn't have to see. He was smiling too.

*edit* I wanted to change the ending, I was thinking about it on the way home from my friend's house and decided to change it.

title: Glad I found this subreddit! First post, please feel free to critique/interpret.

question: Who is Jack?

answer: Not the narrator.

question: Why did the narrator think Jack wouldn't shoot them?

answer: The narrator says Jack didn't have the heart.

question: What will happen next?

answer: It seems Jack will shoot the narrator in the face.

question: What has the writer changed about the story?

answer: The ending.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator doesn't think Jack will shoot them, but he does. Then he insinuates he will shoot them in the face. The narrator knows without looking that Jack is smiling.