text:
  It was like getting hit by a train. I knew I hadn’t literally been hit by a train, but in all my twelve years of existence i had never felt something that painful. He had said it wouldn’t hurt, but he lied.

   "That one was a little high", he said.

   "Yes sir", was all i could manage to reply.

   That rifle had a hell of a kick. I rubbed my shoulder to try and comfort my bones as they screamed in protest. My step father had promised to take me hunting but now i was having second thoughts.

   His name is John David Adams Senior. He has been married to my mom for the last two years. It wasn’t strange to me, having a new dad, like it was to most people. That’s mostly because i never had an old dad. For as long as I can remember it’s just been me and my mom. He is a nice man, although he can be very strict at times.

  We got up from the old wooden bench set up on the outskirts of a field about two hundred yards from our camp, and walked towards the bullseye I had been aiming for.

  The crisp mid-December air felt amazing, like a cold blanket kissing my face. As we walked, the smell of gunpowder that had saturated the air slowly dwindled away, and was replaced by the sweet aroma of freshly cut grass.

  As we reached the target, I felt a wave of disappointment wash over me. He had been right. The hole was nowhere near where I had been aiming for, but it was only my first shot, and we had a whole case of bullets to go through. As we walked back to the bench I rubbed my arm again, apologizing for the pain that was to come.

  Fifteen shots and a short ride later we arrived back at the camp to plan out my first hunt. Our camp was an old house in Natchez, Mississippi that had been converted into a hunting camp by a group of men Mr. John had befriended. From the outside, it looked like hell. The walls had boards missing and the roof patched in spots with sheets of tin, but from the inside it wasn’t half bad.

  As we walk through the front door into the living room I pass the huge map of the property that is used to show everyone where we would be the following day. “You see that spot there, number 24?” He asked.

  I replied “Yes sir.”

  “That’s where we will be tomorrow.”

  I woke the next morning to the sound of the alarm screeching like a fire engine alerting us to a new day. My bed was a sanctuary, a place to relax, but it was time to embrace the day and face the trials that were to come.

  As i pulled on my gear i glance at the clock and realize it is only four in the morning. That explains the iron gates that had replaced my eyelids constantly trying to slam shut.

  The ride to the stand was dark and quiet. Not in a frightening way though. it put me in a calm and comfortable mood. I could almost feel the forest surrounding me waiting for the sun to rise and give light to the new day, and the new events that would unfold.

  We parked on the road and walked to the stand, being as quiet as possible so as to not alert whatever was lurking in the dark trees. We are now predators, and somewhere, hidden behind a curtain of foliage, is my prey awaiting its fate.

  There are two chairs in the stand, each facing out a window that gave a full view of the two fields below. The fields were perpendicular to each other and connected in the corners, that is where our stand is set up. I positioned one chair so i could have a full view of each side at all times.

  As the sun slowly rose to its seat in the sky, the field came into view and revealed the life brimming below. I see chipmunks and birds going about their morning activities, but i see no deer.

  An hour or two goes by with no luck. My nose is starting to freeze when Mr. John taps me on the shoulder and points towards the field I was looking at. I didn’t see anything though, but readied my rifle anyway, just as he has taught me.

  Slowly, a deer creeps its way onto the field and I feel my heart begin to race. I let the animal come closer before preparing for the kill. Steadily I lower my head to the stock and gaze through the scope.

  My heart is leaping out of my chest, but i breathe deeply to attempt to calm it down.

  “Breathe out and squeeze,” he whispers.

  As the air escapes my lungs I slowly squeeze the trigger and ready myself for the impact. The world seems to slow down and disappear, leaving only me and my prey.

  Inside the scope that became my entire universe in that half a second, I hear the click of the hammer against the bullet then almost instantaneously the world explodes back to life. I see the birds flying in every direction, frightened by the sound of the shot, and in the very center of the field, lying still and lifeless, i see my target.

  We left the stand to see how I did. As we come upon the animal i feel pride for what I had accomplished and sorrow for the animal, but this is the way of life. Some must die so that others may survive. Natural selection has never seemed so real to me.

  “Beautiful shot, you did great. I’m proud of you, son,” He said, smiling at me.

  In that moment i am happier that i have ever been, not because i had ended a life, but because I had made him proud. In his eyes I can see the absolute truth in that statement, that for once in my life someone was proud of me.

  I looked into those eyes and saw the pride radiating from them, and I realized i had finally found what i had been hunting for all along.

 I love you, Dad.

  This is an original story written by me. It is also my first post, so i apologize for any formatting errors. I hope you liked it!

title: The Hunt

question: What is the narrator's relationship to their stepfather?

answer: The narrator has a positive relationship with their stepfather which blossoms into something more naturally paternal by the end of the story.

question: Does this story contain a tragedy?

answer: No

question: Has the narrator hunted before?

answer: It does not appear that the narrator has hunted before.

question: What type of animals are in this story?

answer: Birds, chipmunks, and a deer are mentioned.

question: Does the narrator learn a lesson?

answer: The narrator learns that it hadn't been animals they were hunting for, but love and affirmation from their stepfather.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator, 12 years old, goes on a hunting trip with his stepfather, John. The narrator doesn't find it strange to have a new dad because he never had an old one. John teaches the narrator how to hunt, and when the narrator makes his first kill, John calls him 'son'. The narrator realizes he had actually been hunting for paternal affirmation.


split: train

text:
The image of investing needs a makeover. On May 9, 2017, a group of determined and motivated peers met at The Battery in San Francisco for the first ever SHATTER SUMMIT. Hosted by the influential entrepreneur Shelly Kapoor Collins of the Shatter Fund, this gathering focused on one simple yet bold move: _investing in women_. Here are key takeaways from the groundbreaking event that gathered the Bay Area's most influential women under one roof.

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA - May 9 - Chrystine Lawson, Kara Goldin, Samantha Walravens and Suzanne... [+] DiBianca attend Shatter Summit on May 9th 2017 at The Battery Club in San Francisco, California

Photo - Drew Altizer Photography

DO THE MATH! HOW EMPOWERING WOMEN IN LEADERSHIP PAYS OFF.

Shockingly, merely 30 years ago, women needed a male relative to co-sign for a business loan. The Women’s Business Ownership Act of 1988 proclaimed the long overdue gender equality in access to capital required for business ownership. Unfortunately, there is still a serious deficit in the number of women getting investments and women investors in the market.

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA - May 9 - Shelly Kapoor Collins and Tina Sharkey attend Shatter Summit on... [+] May 9th 2017 at The Battery Club in San Francisco, California

Photo - Ando Caulfield for Drew Altizer Photography

According to Shelly Kapoor Collins, Principal of the Shatter Fund, of the top 100 ventures and micro-venture firms, only 7% have women as investing partners. In 2010-2015, only 10% of venture dollars and 15% of seed dollars went to startups with at least one woman founder. A 2007 Catalyst study showed that when a woman is on the executive team of a startup, the returns are 66% greater than those credited to an all-male team. These numbers do not add up! There is clear economic advantage and incentive in empowering women in business leadership.

START EARLY! HOW ENTREPRENEURIAL MINDSET IS SHAPED.

Several “women who shatter” shared their stories to inspire future gender-unbiased investments. Jennifer Siebel Newsom, the Stanford graduate and co-founder of The Representation Project, delivered the keynote address. She told the story of how her two sons had received special birthday presents, including a note from the White House encouraging them with the idea that they could be future presidents.

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA - May 9 - Jennifer Siebel Newsom attends Shatter Summit on May 9th 2017 at... [+] The Battery Club in San Francisco, California

Photo - Ando Caulfield for Drew Altizer Photography

Meanwhile, her two daughters got no such grand rhetorical gestures, but were showered with a “pool of Pepto-Bismol pink” gifts. The goal is to rewrite this limiting and damaging narrative and teach girls that they are equal from day one. It is a basic idea that is catching more and more traction in the business world. For example, Craig Newmark, founder of Craigslist and supporter of Girls Who Code and the Global Fund for Women, vowed to “stand up for it and to do so relentlessly, for as long as [he] lives.”

IT TAKES A VILLAGE! HOW GENDER-NEUTRAL NETWORKING POWERS SUCCESS.

Despite many signs of social progress, the number of women among venture capitalists has decreased from 10% to 6% since 1999. Two powerful discussions addressed this disconcerting turn of events. Nancy Pfund of DBL Partners, Linnea Roberts, advisory director to _Goldman Sachs_, and Kim Rubey, Head of Communications at _Airbnb,_ championed the notion of encouraging women to be door openers, not gatekeepers for each other in the industry. The sentiment was echoed by Hare Goldin, founder of Hint Water, journalist Samantha Walravens, and Suzanne DiBianca, the EVP of Salesforce. “Not all unicorns are Uber and not all tech entrepreneurs are white guys out of Stanford”. Smart investment is not just about the money, but also about time commitments and mentorship opportunities.

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA - May 9 - Shelly Kapoor Collins, Nancy Pfund, Kim Rubey and Linnea Roberts... [+] attend Shatter Summit on May 9th 2017 at The Battery Club in San Francisco, California

Photo - Drew Altizer Photography

SAY IT OUT LOUD! HOW AFFIRMATIONS EMBOLDEN LEADERS.

Nurturing is inseparable from growth. The principle applies to nature, relationships and business. Nurture and self-care were a common denominator for presenters Dave Morin and Tina Sharkey. Morin is launching Sunrise, a project to help people “have their minds taken as care of as much as their bodies”. It’s mission to is tackle depression and reduce suffering (among business professionals as well), and work holistically with natural brain powers.

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA - May 9 - Alison Pincus and Dave Morin attend Shatter Summit on May 9th... [+] 2017 at The Battery Club in San Francisco, California

Photo - Drew Altizer Photography

Tina Sharkey, founder of Brandless and former president of BabyCenter and Sherpa Foundry, focused her presentation on access to non-monetary resources like people, tool and knowhow. The important thing is to have the courage to speak up and ask. Sharkey offered a powerful affirmation: “Remember, you can have your values and have great value.”

P.S. ABOUT THAT MILE IN HER SHOES…

Leading by example is the surefire way to make a lasting impact. Tamara Mellon, co-founder of _Jimmy Choo_ and now of her eponymous shoe line, saw an opportunity in the market and had the confidence to go after it. As the accessories editor for _British Vogue_, she was tired of limited shoe options for styling during photo shoots, so she convinced Jimmy Choo to launch one of the most successful footwear companies to date. Her own line is by women, for women and sold direct-to-women, meaning it has no markups.

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA - May 9 - Tamara Mellon and Alison Pincus attend Shatter Summit on May 9th... [+] 2017 at The Battery Club in San Francisco, California

Photo - Drew Altizer

Her main takeaway from prior business ventures is “what is incredibly important is having the right people around you, who want to execute your vision.” Learning from one’s own experience and constantly striving for more equal footing is an honorable goal for the global business community.

_This story was co-authored with Justice McNeil, MA Fashion Journalism, the Academy of Art University._

question: What does the article say about inequality between men and women?

answer: Merely 30 years ago, women neede a male relative to co-sign for a business loan. This was changed by the Womens' Business Ownership Act of 1988. But there is still a deficit in the number of women getting investments and women investors in the market. Of the top 100 ventures and micro-venture firms, only 7 percent have women as investing partners. Jennifer Newsom told a story of how her two songs received birthday presents such as notes from the White House encouraging them to be future presidents, while her daughters received pink gifts.

question: Summarize the historial context the article provides.

answer: Merely 30 years ago, women needed a male relative to co-sign for a business loan. The Women's Business Ownership act of 1988 proclaimed gender equality in access to capital required for business ownership. In 2010-2015, only 10% of venture dollars and 15% of seed dollars went to startups with at least one woman founder. A 2007 Catalyst study showed that having a woman on the executive team of a startup increases returns by 66%. The number of women among venture capitalists in 1999 was 10%.

question: What does the article say about racism in the business world?

question: What does the article say about specific businesses?

answer: Craig Newmark, founder of Craigslist, vowed to stand up for Girls Who Code and the Global Fund for Women. Nancy Pfund of DBL Partners, Linnea Roberts of Goldman Sachs, and Kim Rubey of Airbnb championed the notion of encouraging women to be door openers for each other in the industry. This sentiment was echoed by Hare Goldin of Hint Water and Suzanne DiBianca of Salesforce. Tina Sharkey, founder of Brandless, did a presentation on access to non-monetary resources. Tamara Mello convinced Jimmy Choo to launch a successful footware company.


text:
_DALIDA_ is a 2017 French biographical drama film about the life of singer and actress Dalida. It is written, directed and co-produced by Lisa Azuelos, and stars Sveva Alviti as Dalida.[1]

Plot

In 1967 Dalida goes to a hotel and unsuccessfully attempts suicide. Rushing to her side during recovery are her ex-husband Lucien Morisse, her ex-lover Jean Sobieski and her brother Orlando (born Bruno). The three men explain different facets of Dalida's personality: Dalida grew up a passionate music lover thanks to her violinist father in Cairo but always felt herself to be ugly because of the large glasses she wore. She was discovered in Paris by Lucien Morisse, a Parisian radio programmer who eventually fell for her and left his wife for her. Dalida became disillusioned with Morisse when he put off marriage and a child to focus on building her career. Nevertheless she married him, but quickly began an affair with artist Jean Sobieski. She eventually left Sobieski as well, to have an affair with Luigi Tenco, a temperamental musician. Luigi commits suicide after having a breakdown and walking off stage at a music competition. Dalida finds his body and it is this her friends and family believe has contributed to her mental breakdown and suicide attempt.

With the help of her brother Dalida recovers and begins to record new music and find new loves. Going to Italy to perform, she encounters a young 22 year old student and the two embark upon a love affair. Discovering she is pregnant Dalida decides not to keep the child as she feels her lover is too young to be a responsible parent and that she does not want to raise a child without a father. She has an abortion and breaks things off with her lover.

Dalida's brother Orlando begins to manage her career causing a new period of success for her. Lucien Morisse meanwhile commits suicide in their old apartment.

Dalida is introduced to media personality Richard Chanfray (Nicolas Duvauchelle) and the two begin a relationship. Dalida feels safe and secure for the first time in her life, but eventually their relationship begins to crumble. Richard accidentally shoots the boyfriend of her housekeeper believing he is an intruder and Dalida is forced to pay off the family to keep him out of jail. After Richard gets jealous of her career she records an album with him despite the fact that he is a poor singer. Dalida believes she is pregnant only to learn her abortion destroyed her uterus and any chance she may have had of becoming pregnant. At a New Year's Eve party after Richard is unpleasant to her and publicly mocks her eating disorder, Dalida finally kicks him out of her life. Sometime after he commits suicide as well.

Her career doing better than ever, Dalida acts in the film Le Sixième Jour to much acclaim and returns to Egypt where she is feted by the people. Nevertheless she dissolves into a deep depression, becoming a shut-in with her bulimia spiralling out of control. She finally commits suicide leaving behind a note explaining that life is too difficult.

Cast

-   Sveva Alviti as Dalida
-   Riccardo Scamarcio as Orlando
-   Jean-Paul Rouve as Lucien Morisse
-   Nicolas Duvauchelle as Richard Chanfray
-   Alessandro Borghi as Luigi Tenco
-   Valentina Carli as Rosy
-   Brenno Placido as Lucio
-   Niels Schneider as Jean Sobieski
-   Hamarz Vasfi as Pietro Gigliotti
-   Davide Lorino as elder Orlando
-   F. Haydee Borelli as Giuseppina Gigliotti
-   Vincent Perez as Eddie Barclay
-   Patrick Timsit as Bruno Coquatrix
-   Michaël Cohen as Arnaud Desjardins
-   Elena Rapisarda as young Dalida

Production

Principal photography took place from 8 February to 22 April 2016, in France, Italy and Morocco.[2]

Reception

In a statement to the Agence France-Presse, Catherine Morisse, the daughter of Lucien Morisse, criticised the film for the inaccurate portrayal of her father, adding that she was not consulted during the film's production.[3]

[1]

[2]

[3]

title: Dalida (2017 film)

question: Who stars in Dalida?

answer: Sveva Alvita.

question: Summarize everything relating to the film's reception.

answer: The only thing noted is criticism from the daughter of one of the people portrayed in the biography, who states she was not consulted and believes the portrayal of her father inaccurate.

question: Describe the main character(s) of the film.

answer:
Dalida is a singer and actress with a turbulent love life who attempts suicide more than once, ultimately succeeding.

The other characters are her brother, her ex-husband, and four of her lovers (one extra-marital, three post-divorce).

question: When was the film made?

answer: It was filmed in 2016 and released in 2017.

question: Where is the film set?

answer: Paris, Italy, Egypt.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: Dalida is a 2017 French biographical film, starring Sveva Alviti as actress and singer Dalida. The plot centers on Dalida's turbulent love life and stages of career success before her death by suicide.


text:
    “Hey Ricky, can I have the last of the Oreos?”

    “As long as I can have the last Twinkie.”

    “It’s a deal!”

Jon bit down into the last of the delectable little morsels, savoring its sweet and creamy inside. The cookie was sweet and beautiful, a delicious respite from the chaos outside. He knew damn well it was likely to be the last Oreo he would ever taste.

Although their sweets were running low, their supply of other foods was another story. Living inside of a Wal-Mart had its benefits. And its own set of problems…

    The door, a gateway to the outside world and all its disgusting
                               remnants.

Ricky was preparing for his morning jog outside of Aisle 12. Regardless of what conditions were like outside, staying in shape was always a good idea. As he stretched, Jon came shuffling over in a lethargic state. Wearing nothing but boxers and a white t-shirt, you could never have guessed he was standing in the middle of a Wal-Mart at the end of days. His common and relaxed demeanor ceded nothing to the knowledge of the apocalypse in which they were now living.

    The door, hastily welded shut and barricaded with simple grocery
                                carts.

Ricky lay silent in his makeshift bed, his mind cramped and hazy. As he stared off into space, he could hear the sounds of trees slapping the sides of the grocery store. The wind was howling, and as the rains buffeted the parking lot outside, a crash of thunder could be heard, somewhere far off in the distance.  The rain and the wind created a dull humming, both broad and low. Ricky hadn’t been able to sleep properly in weeks. Jon, on the other hand, seemed calm and stable. He fell asleep just moments after his head smashed into his pillow. Ricky lay there awake, thinking about life. About survival. About the door.

    The door, the breaking point of their defenses against the world
                                outside.

    “30….31…..32….33 boxes of cereal ”

    “Got it.”

    “1…..2……3….4….5…6….7….8….9…10….11 boxes of nutra-grain bars.”

    “Kay……got it.”

    “1……2…..3…..”

    The door, thin panes of glass across its surface.

Jon was refilling the gas in the generator when he heard it. The sound of breaking glass followed by a guttural moaning. They had come.

    The door, the breaking point of their spirits.

The apocalypse had come to greet them. Death awaited with open arms.

    The door.

title: Mundane

question: Who are the main characters of the story?

answer: Ricky and Jon.

question: Where does the story take place?

answer: Inside a Wal-Mart.

question: What's going on outside and why are they living inside a Wal-Mart?

answer: Chaos and death brought about by the apocalypse wait for them beyond the door and Wal-Mart is the only safe place left.

question: Explain the significance of "the door"

answer: The door is the only thing left standing between them and death.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: During the end of days, Ricky and Jon hole up in a Wal-Mart. They have plenty of supplies, but the only thing keeping out certain death is a glass door they have hastily welded and barricaded with shopping carts. They go through the motions of living - sleeping, exercise, counting food - but the flimsy glass door holding out the darkness is always on their minds, especially Ricky. One day, they hear the sound of breaking glass followed by a guttural moaning. The apocalypse has come for them.


text:
Katie asked Artie to meet her at the Mexican restaurant, the bright yellow, stucco building just down the street from her house. It was a place they often went to eat. Artie sat on the plastic bench across the table from Katie. Katie’s blue eyes looked larger, even more beautiful than usual. But though her eyes were wide, they had less depth.  It was as if the deep pools of her eyes had dried up, leaving pure calcite rings of white and shallow puddles of blue that had once been seas.

Artie stared down at the table top. The surface was brown formica with a fake pattern of wood grain. He looked up at Katie, she brushed a lock of her auburn hair away from her face.

“Are things going to be OK between us?” Artie said, his voice was flat.

“I don’t think so” Katie said.

“What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing” Katie said. Her voice was flat too, but it had an edge like anger.  It wasn’t anger, “It’s over between us. You left some of your stuff at my house. I put it in a box on the porch, you can come get it whenever”.

Artie’s right hand was gripping a little plastic arch with the number “12” on it.  Just then a voice came over the intercom,

“Number 12”, the voice said.

Artie moved to slide off the bench and stood up, he looked down at Katie. “Are you going to stay and eat?”

“No” she pulled her purse over her shoulder and slid off the bench and stood up.  For a moment she and Artie stood close to each other. It didn’t help that she looked unusually beautiful.  Artie didn’t reach for her.  Even the habit of a parting embrace had dried up, his insides felt dried up. He stood feeling awkward for a moment. She looked very straight and dignified. Suddenly perfect. Then she turned and crossed the restaurant toward the door.  Artie’s eyes followed her as she pushed open the glass door and walked out into the parking lot. There was a big, arched window on either side of the door and he saw her as she crossed the parking lot. The warm March sun fell reddish on her hair.  It didn’t help that she looked very beautiful, even at a distance, walking across a parking lot.

“Number 12”, the scratchy intercom voice said again.

Artie went up to the counter and exchanged the plastic arch for a tray with their meals.  The tray held two lunch specials; tacos, enchiladas and piles of beans, orange rice and shredded, colorless lettuce.

Artie set the tray down on the table and picked at the food. Then he got up and walked to the restroom.  He cried a little bit in the bathroom stall then came back out.

When he came back from the bathroom, he saw one of the restaurant employees dumping the tray with the two lunch specials into a garbage can.  She looked up at him. She must have thought he was done eating.

Artie smiled at her vacantly and walked toward the exit.  He crossed the parking lot. That’s one thing that’s hard about being alone in the world, Artie thought as he got into his car; people throw your food away.

title: La Xalapena Mexican Restaurant, Savannah Georgia (550 words)

question: List the main characters.

answer: Katie and Artie

question: Where is the story set?

answer: A Mexican fast food restaurant

question: Who says, "Number 12?"

answer: The server at the counter

question: Why does Artie cry in the bathroom stall?

answer: Katie told him their relationship is over and left

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Katie asks Artie to meet her at a Mexican fast food restaurant, where she tells him their relationship is over. She says he can pick up his things whenever, and she leaves. Artie gets his food and eats a little and then goes to the bathroom and cries. When he returns, a worker has thrown out the rest of his food, so he leaves.


text:
The night crept on the carousel as if light itself was on ‘paid stress leave.’ The fog lights exhausted their last sigh and sputtered to an abrupt stop. All the maintenance workers had gone home, and the gates locked up tighter than a mental institution on Mardi Gras. The winds gusted up swirls of dust and litter into mini-twisters and pummeled the walls of the Sea-House, eroding the seashells that were glued there last summer’s eve by the Sedgwick twins. Even though the stars and the moon upheld their false lie and pretended to illuminate the landscape, darkness and confusion rose from the horizon and swallowed all hope from the neighborhoods surrounding the park. The gulls, even, had been dismayed from their usual posts and sought refuge from the impending gloom. The waves and pulses of the ocean invaded the shore in a sort of perpetual attack on the land, and brought with them tidings from the sea. Although the clocks chimed six, the sun knew where its place was; hidden behind a veil of earth, cloud, trees, and the endless horizon of the land. The artificial horses and ponies of the carousel, with their glassy eyes and rounded, glazed knees, dimmed in their gloss, and fell to the night before them. The light wained away and succumbed to the starry sky. The queer dark draped over the park, and seeped into every imaginable nook and cranny. It climbed the lighthouse as if driven from its home by some unseen force, perhaps the light and dark trading spaces. Not even in the parks long history had it been so resentful, or so repressed by the dark judgment. The greasy, blackened wheels and hocks of the turn-wheel on the merry-go-round were all rusted and grimed out, yet still managed to produce an odd, familiar quality that would ring out in day or night. The paint on the twisting candy poles of the handles flaked and peeled, but still yielded a faint yet bright representation of the past. The Fun-House had some mirrors cracked and smashed, but still the music played on as if ignoring the fact that its prime had come and go a long time past.

The night had come before, no doubt about it, but this was different. This dark was penetrating, and intrusive. It dove deep into your thoughts and kept you from waking. It trickled through the cracks of everyones happiness and glee, yet caught the tangled web of the common fear of the unknown. This, truly, was not only the absence of light, but the knowledge that the light would never surface in the consciousness of this world again. The locks on the gate may keep people out, but more so, may keep change from also entering and destroying the pristine, never-changing persona of the Park on the Pier. They would click and lock, ringing a certain and yet distinct chime into the halls of time. Rusted and still strong, after years of abuse and torture brought on by years of wear and tear. Only one key, only one, could open these gates, and this key has seemed to slip away from those wanting in. Perhaps by mistake or perhaps by intent, the key just isn't there to satisfy those who want it the most. Beyond the gates, the ticket booth rots away, with its characteristic stained white and baby-blue paneling. It once stood firm and tall, loved for its colors and charm. Now it lays there, a shell of what it once was. A hollow record of the care-free times, with a physical reminder to the past, offering little in the way of mental rememberings.

The apartment complex that overlooked the acreage crumbled from the beating of time against its tough exterior, and although it stood tall and firm, it also took a familiar trait that of an empty reminder of the times that once were. The grimy, metallic walls dulled under the artificial lights, and the carpet accumulated a certain black muddy buildup, with a well-beaten flatness all around the edges and center. The stench of sweat and old cooking filled the halls, finding every wisp of fabric and corrupting it beyond repair. The elevators, every now and again, would grumble to life and serve its ever-knowing masters, only to return to the dark underworld of the basement. Their purpose: to willfully accept and blindly serve those whoever wished of their services, only to be cast off to a dark and unseen chamber, where others of its kind were held, waiting eagerly to serve the cruel masters. The hallways especially were a transform from a wonderful earlier go. The plaster on the ceilings and walls lifted at the simplest of touches, and the doors at the end of the hall, although never touched, still gathered the mold and filth abundant in this post-Victory Mansion era dwelling. The doorknobs, with their own locks, were the only shining pieces in this terrace, but even then, dust and sweat deteriorated the state of the knobs to near replacement. The lights flickered an orange halo reminiscent to that of a deranged traffic light. The peepholes on the doors themselves were grimy and had built up the blackened carbon around the splotty edges. Through the peephole, down at the end of the third hallway, room 324 sleeps. It sleeps because there is no one to wake it. Room 324 has no furniture and no tenants. It is simply waiting for its tenants to return, their arms full of tidings and gifts. Room 324, with its open windows and bedroom doors widely ajar, opens its eyes to the morning sun. Room 324, and the whole apartment complex for that matter, is on an expansive hill, overlooks the coastal town of Mayfair, CA. But in its immediate backyard lies a quiet and subtle inkling of a meadow. The meadow faces the sun when it rises, as to catch the sun before anyone else in Mayfair.

In this meadow, a single car, windows broken and smashed long ago, lay undeterred and untouched for what might seem an eternity. The hood, crumpled from a collision, had been the subject of abuse and battery from the local teenagers for as long as the car had remained there. Blackened by fire, the car may seem like all hope is lost, but the glass from the windows and windshield lay undisturbed on the grassy meadow surrounding the car. The glass reflects and magnifies the incoming morning sunlight, pushing forth a notion of one last stand against the forces of darkness and despair. The sun rises from above its alcove of retainment, and pushes with it one last beacon of hope in the darkness.

**But with that statement, I have come to realize one thing, and that is the hope is always there; just because your eyes haven't adjusted to the darkness, doesn't mean the light is never coming back.**

title: [Mayfair]

question: What happened to cause the disrepair described?

answer: It seems like just time passed has caused the disrepair.

question: What is the significance of the "key"?

answer: The locks on the gate not only keep people out, but keep change from entering. The key has been lost or forgotten.

question: Describe the setting.

answer: The setting is a dilapidated apartment complex and the Park on the Pier in Mayfair, Ca.

question: What does the narrator have to do with the places described?

answer: It is not indicated.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: While the setting described is a dilapidated apartment complex and equally run-down Park on the Pier in Mayfair, Ca. The description seems to imply that the darkness that is taking over the park and apartment building is more significant and never-ending, acknowledging that the light would never again surface in the consciousness of this world again.


text:
MARGARET GERTRUDE MARY (MONIQUE) SMIT (born 9 April 1989) is a Dutch singer and television presenter.

She grew up in Volendam as the younger sister to Jan Smit. After finishing school, she attended Don Bosco College. She became a hairdresser. She first became a public face when she participated in her brother's reality series _Gewoon Jan Smit_.[1] She has presented the show _Zapp Kids Top 20_ for TROS and _Wild van Muziek_ broadcast on Sterren 24.[2]

She also took place in a reality show _Just the Two of Us_ in 2007 where she gained the second place and performed in a duet with Xander de Buisonjé. Monique debuted with her solo _“Wild”_ which was in Top five in 2007 after her participating in a few reality shows on Dutch TV. One year later she released her first solo album _“Stel Je Voor”_ which contains such singles of her like _" “Vrouwenalfabet,”_ and _“Stel Je Voor.”_[3]

Monique Smit has released four music albums. She has released several music singles including “Wild”, “Blijf je vanavond” and “Kerstmis vier je samen”.[4]

Albums

-   _Stel je voor [limited edition]_ (2008)
-   _Verder [14 tracks]_ (2010)
-   _Grenzeloos_ (in partnership with Tim Douwsma) (2013)
-   _2 kleine kleutertjes_ (2015)
-   _Sinterklaas is in het land_ (2016)
-   _Kerstliedjes_ (2017)[5]

[1]

[2]

[3] Smit Retrieved on 23 Jan 2018

[4]

[5] Smit Retrieved on 23 Jan 2018

title: Monique Smit

question: When was Monique Smit born?

answer: Monique Smit was born on the 9th of April, 1989.

question: What college did Monique Smit attend?

answer: Monique Smit went to Don Bosco College.

question: What place did Monique Smit earn in 2007's Just the Two of Us?

answer: Monique Smit earned second place in 2007's Just the Two of Us.

question: What was Monique Smit's first album called?

answer: Monique Smit's first album was called Stel Je Voor.

question: How many music albums has Monique Smit released?

answer: Monique Smit has released four music albums.

question: When did Monique Smit release Kerstliedjes?

answer: Monique Smit released Kerstliedies in 2017.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Monique Smit is a Dutch singer and television presenter. She went to Don Bosco College and has appeared on multiple Dutch reality TV series. She has released four music albums since 2008.


text:
One of the reasons that flexbox quickly caught the interest of web developers is that it brought proper alignment capabilities to the web for the first time. It enabled proper vertical alignment, so we can at last easily center a box. In this guide, we will take a thorough look at how the alignment and justification properties work in Flexbox.

To center our box we use the align-items property to align our item on the cross axis, which in this case is the block axis running vertically. We use justify-content to align the item on the main axis, which in this case the inline axis running horizontally.

[A containing element with another box centered inside it.]

You can take a look at the code of this example below. Change the size of the container or nested element and the nested element always remains centered.

Properties that control alignment

The properties we will look at in this guide are as follows.

-   justify-content — controls alignment of all items on the main axis.
-   align-items — controls alignment of all items on the cross axis.
-   align-self — controls alignment of an individual flex item on the cross axis.
-   align-content — described in the spec as for “packing flex lines”; controls space between flex lines on the cross axis.

We will also discover how auto margins can be used for alignment in flexbox.

NOTE: The alignment properties in Flexbox have been placed into their own specification — CSS Box Alignment Level 3. It is expected that this spec will ultimately supersede the properties as defined in Flexbox Level One.

The Cross Axis

The align-items and align-self properties control alignment of our flex items on the cross axis, down the columns if flex-direction is row and along the row if flex-direction is column.

We are making use of cross-axis alignment in the most simple flex example. If we add display: flex to a container, the child items all become flex items arranged in a row. They will all stretch to be as tall as the tallest item, as that item is defining the height of the items on the cross axis. If your flex container has a height set, then the items will stretch to that height, regardless of how much content is in the item.

[Three items, one with additional text causing it to be taller than the others.]

[Three items stretched to 200 pixels tall]

The reason the items become the same height is that the initial value of align-items, the property that controls alignment on the cross axis, is set to stretch.

We can use other values to control how the items align:

-   align-items: flex-start
-   align-items: flex-end
-   align-items: center
-   align-items: stretch
-   align-items: baseline

In the live example below, the value of align-items is stretch. Try the other values and see how all of the items align against each other in the flex container.

Aligning one item with align-self

The align-items property sets the align-self property on all of the flex items as a group. This means you can explicitly declare the align-self property to target a single item. The align-self property accepts all of the same values as align-items plus a value of auto, which will reset the value to that which is defined on the flex container.

In this next live example, the flex container has align-items: flex-start, which means the items are all aligned to the start of the cross axis. I have targeted the first item using a first-child selector and set that item to align-self: stretch; another item has been selected using its class of selected and given align-self: center. You can change the value of align-items or change the values of align-self on the individual items to see how this works.

Changing the main axis

So far we have looked at the behaviour when our flex-direction is row, and while working in a language written top to bottom. This means that the main axis runs along the row horizontally, and our cross axis alignment moves the items up and down.

[Three items, the first aligned to flex-start, second to center, third to flex-end. Aligning on the vertical axis.]

If we change our flex-direction to column, align-items and align-self will align the items to the left and right.

[Three items, the first aligned to flex-start, second to center, third to flex-end. Aligning on the horizontal axis.]

You can try this out in the example below, which has a flex container with flex-direction: column yet otherwise is exactly the same as the previous example.

Aligning content on the cross axis — the align-content property

So far we have been aligning the items, or an individual item inside the area defined by the flex-container. If you have a wrapped multiple-line flex container then you might also want to use the align-content property to control the distribution of space between the rows. In the specification this is described as packing flex lines.

For align-content to work you need more height in your flex container than is required to display the items. It then works on all the items as a set, and dictates what happens with that free space, and the alignment of the entire set of items within it.

The align-content property takes the following values:

-   align-content: flex-start
-   align-content: flex-end
-   align-content: center
-   align-content: space-between
-   align-content: space-around
-   align-content: stretch
-   align-content: space-evenly (not defined in the Flexbox specification)

In the live example below, the flex container has a height of 400 pixels, which is more than needed to display our items. The value of align-content is space-between, which means that the available space is shared out _between_ the flex lines, which are placed flush with the start and end of the container on the cross axis.

Try out the other values to see how the align-content property works.

Once again we can switch our flex-direction to column in order to see how this property behaves when we are working by column. As before, we need enough space in the cross axis to have some free space after displaying all of the items.

NOTE: the value space-evenly is not defined in the flexbox specification and is a later addition to the Box Alignment specification. Browser support for this value is not as good as that of the values defined in the flexbox spec.

See the documentation for justify-content on MDN for more details on all of these values and browser support.

Aligning content on the main axis

Now that we have seen how alignment works on the cross axis, we can take a look at the main axis. Here we only have one property available to us — justify-content. This is because we are only dealing with items as a group on the main axis. With justify-content we control what happens with available space, should there be more space than is needed to display the items.

In our initial example with display: flex on the container, the items display as a row and all line up at the start of the container. This is due to the initial value of justify-content being flex-start. Any available space is placed at the end of the items.

[Three items, each 100 pixels wide in a 500 pixel container. The available space is at the end of the items.]

The justify-content property accepts the same values as align-content.

-   justify-content: flex-start
-   justify-content: flex-end
-   justify-content: center
-   justify-content: space-between
-   justify-content: space-around
-   justify-content: space-evenly (not defined in the Flexbox specification)

In the example below, the value of justify-content is space-between. The available space after displaying the items is distributed between the items. The left and right item line up flush with the start and end.

If the main axis is in the block direction because flex-direction is set to column, then justify-content will distribute space between items in that dimension as long as there is space in the flex container to distribute.

Alignment and Writing Modes

Remember that with all of these alignment methods, the values of flex-start and flex-end are writing mode-aware. If the value of justify-content is start and the writing mode is left-to-right as in English, the items will line up starting at the left side of the container.

[Three items lined up on the left]

However if the writing mode is right-to-left as in Arabic, the items will line up starting at the right side of the container.

[Three items lined up from the right]

The live example below has the direction property set to rtl to force a right-to-left flow for our items. You can remove this, or change the values of justify-content to see how flexbox behaves when the start of the inline direction is on the right.

Alignment and flex-direction

The start line will also change if you change the flex-direction property — for example using row-reverse instead of row.

In this next example I have items laid out with flex-direction: row-reverse and justify-content: flex-end. In a left to right language the items all line up on the left. Try changing flex-direction: row-reverse to flex-direction: row. You will see that the items now move to the right hand side.

While this may all seem a little confusing, the rule to remember is that unless you do something to change it, flex items lay themselves out in the direction that words are laid out in the language of your document along the inline, row axis. flex-start will be where the start of a sentence of text would begin.

[Diagram showing start on the left and end on the right.]

You can switch them to display in the block direction for the language of your document by selecting flex-direction: column. Then flex-start will then be where the top of your first paragraph of text would start.

[Diagram showing start at the top and end at the bottom.]

If you change flex-direction to one of the reverse values, then they will lay themselves out from the end axis and in the reverse order to the way words are written in the language of your document. flex-start will then change to the end of that axis — so to the location where your lines would wrap if working in rows, or at the end of your last paragraph of text in the block direction.

[Diagram showing start on the right and end on the left.]

[Diagram showing end at the top and start at the bottom]

Using auto margins for main axis alignment

We don’t have a justify-items or justify-self property available to us on the main axis as our items are treated as a group on that axis. However it is possible to do some individual alignment in order to separate an item or a group of items from others by using auto margins along with flexbox.

A common pattern is a navigation bar where some key items are aligned to the right, with the main group on the left. You might think that this should be a use case for a justify-self property, however consider the image below. I have three items on one side and two on the other. If I were able to use justify-self on item _d_, it would also change the alignment of item _e_ that follows, which may or may not be my intention.

[Five items, in two groups. Three on the left and two on the right.]

Instead we can target item 4 and separate it from the first three items by giving it a margin-left value of auto. Auto margins will take up all of the space that they can in their axis — it is how centering a block with margin auto left and right works. Each side tries to take as much space as it can, and so the block is pushed into the middle.

In this live example, I have flex items arranged simply into a row with the basic flex values, and the class push has margin-left: auto. You can try removing this, or adding the class to another item to see how it works.

Future alignment features for Flexbox

At the beginning of this article I explained that the alignment properties currently contained in the Level 1 flexbox specification are also included in Box Alignment Level 3, which may well extend these properties and values in the future. We have already seen one place where this has happened, with the introduction of the space-evenly value for align-content and justify-content properties.

The Box Alignment module also includes other methods of creating space between items, such as the column-gap and row-gap feature as seen in CSS Grid Layout. The inclusion of these properties in Box Alignment means that in future we should be able to use column-gap and row-gap in flex layouts too, and in Firefox 63 you will find the first browser implementation of the gap properties in flex layout.

My suggestion when exploring flexbox alignment in depth is to do so alongside looking at alignment in Grid Layout. Both specifications use the alignment properties as detailed in the Box Alignment specification. You can see how these properties behave when working with a grid in the MDN article Box Alignment in Grid Layout, and I have also compared how alignment works in these specifications in my Box Alignment Cheatsheet.

See Also

-   Box Alignment
-   Box Alignment in Flexbox
-   Box Alignment in Grid Layout

question: Describe the individual parts of the flexbox syntax.

answer:
Selector: Identifies the element to be styled.
Property: The way in which an element can be styled.
Property value: Chooses one out of many possible appearances for a property.

question: What will happen if flexbox is not used?

answer: The web developer will have to use another tool to align boxes vertically. It will be more difficult to center a box without the use of flexbox.

question: What is flexbox?

answer: Flexbox is a modern layout tool used for CSS. It has value to web developers because it makes vertical alignment easier and quicker. It also provides other properties to accommodate styling.


text:
HJÖRLEIFSHÖFÐI () is a -high inselberg in southern Iceland. It consists of palagonite. The mountain is located on the Mýrdalssandur outwash plain about east of Vík í Mýrdal, and was an island in the Atlantic Ocean.

Name

The name was given to the mountain by one of the first legendary settlers mentioned in the _Landnámabók_.

According to this, Hjörleifr Hróðmarsson was the brother-in-law of Ingólfur Arnarson, Iceland's first official settler. He settled at Hjörleifshöfði towards the end of the ninth century. There, however, he was slain by his slaves. The slaves fled to Vestmannaeyjar, where Ingólfur took his revenge for his friend and slew them.

On the top of the mountain is a mound called Hjörleifshaugur, where Hjörleifr is said to be buried.[1]

Geology

The mountain is of volcanic origin but was covered by ice or seawater at the time of its formation, so it has a similar past as the nearby larger Hafursey mountain. Then it was an island surrounded by sea. At the time of the settlement of Iceland, it was already connected to the mainland, but there was still a fjord at its side, which was used to shore ships.

Later, the jökulhlaups, connected with the eruptions of the Katla volcano in Mýrdalsjökull, gathered so much sand and gravel that it was now not at the shore but surrounded by the mainland and the fjord was filled.

After the eruption of Katla in 1918, a tongue of land, Kötlutangi, led out into the sea so far that it was regarded as the southernmost point of Iceland. Meanwhile, however, the sea eroded it to the point that this title again belongs to the peninsula of Dyrhólaey.[2]

Farm

By AD 874 there was a farm of the same name on the mountain. After the outbreaks of Katla in 1660 or 1721 it had been moved up.

The farm was regarded as relatively well-off because of the side-income from the hunt for seabirds and the collection of eggs.[3]

In popular culture

The area was used for location filming for the 2016 _Star Wars_ spinoff film _Rogue One_.[4]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

title: Hjörleifshöfði

question: Where is Hjörleifshöfði?

answer: Iceland.

question: What does Hjörleifshöfði consist of?

answer: Palagonite.

question: Who gave Hjörleifshöfði its name?

answer: One of the legendary settlers in the Landnamabok.

question: When was there first a farm on the side of the mountain?

answer: 874.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: This article is about Hjörleifshöfði a mountain in Iceland.


text:
"Wake up, Timothy.....Timothy, dear, wake up!"

“Ugh...what?”

“Wake up! We're leaving soon!”

	Timothy rose from his bead, still groggy. Beside him was his wife, already dressed. He glanced at his clock; 3:20 AM, it read.

“Margaret, what are you doing awake and dressed at three in the morning? Why are you waking me up?”, said Timothy, yawning.

“We're leaving soon!”

“Leaving where?”

“Oh...well, its a surprise, you'll just have to wait until Jeffery comes. Then we will leave!”, said Margaret. She seemed quite excited for this place they were going to.

“Who's Jeffery? Why do we have to wait for him?”

“Because he's the one taking us!”

“Margaret, I don't want to go anywhere. I want to sleep. I have work in the morning, how am I supposed to be on time if I don't get any sleep?”

“You don't need to worry about work, dear. Now get dressed! I'm going to go fix us some breakfast.”

	Margaret left the bedroom, and headed towards the kitchen. Timothy could hear her humming to herself happily as she prepared their food. As reluctant as he was, he got out of bed and dressed himself. He didn't want to go anywhere; but Margaret had been quite distant lately; not herself. This was the first time in weeks he had seen her happy. He decided he'd go along with it, for her sake. As he walked into the kitchen, Margaret stood at the stove smiling, frying some eggs.

“How would you like your eggs, dear?”

“Runny.”

	Timothy walked to the coffee maker, and began to make some coffee. He soon realized that Margaret had stopped humming; so he turned around. She was standing completely still, staring at him blankly.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”, he asked.

	No response.

“Margaret, what's wrong?”

“Oh, what?”, she said, as she snapped back into reality.

“You were staring at me.”

“Oh, sorry. Silly me, I guess I'm still a bit tired!” She resumed cooking the eggs and humming.

	Timothy finished brewing his coffee just as Margaret finished cooking the eggs. She prepared them plates, and they sat down to eat.

“So, where are we going?”, Timothy asked.

“I can't tell you, dear. Its a surprise.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“A special surprise, just for you.”

“A surprise? For me? It better be damn good if its at 3 AM in the morning. When are we leaving?”

“Oh, I don't know. As soon as Jeffery gets here.”

	About a half hour had passed, and they had both finished eating. Timothy was in the living room, fiddling with the T.V.. Margaret sat next to him, reading a book.

“Margaret, did you mess with the T.V.? Its just fuzzy white noise.”

“No dear, I didn't touch it.”

“Whatever. There's probably nothing good on, anyway. Can we leave yet?”

“No, not yet. We need to wait 'till Jeffery comes.”

“I think this Jeffery guy is a bit late.”, said Timothy, mildly annoyed.

	Another half hour passed, and at this point Timothy was laying on the floor, half asleep. His eyes became heavy, and soon the image of Margaret underneath the lamp had dimmed to blackness.

“Wake up, Timothy! Wake up! Timothy!”

	Timothy opened his eyes. He was back in his bed, with Margaret sitting on the bed next to him, with a worried look on her face.

“Timothy, you were talking in your sleep, and you're sweating.”

“What? How did I get in my bed? Is Jeffery here yet? He glanced at the clock; 5:48 AM.

“Who's Jeffery, Timothy?”

“Jeffery, Margaret. You know, he was going to take us to the surprise, remember? You woke me up at 3 AM!”

“What? I don't know a Jeffery, and I didn't wake you up. You must have been dreaming, that's probably why you were talking in your sleep.”

“Maybe...Margaret, I had a very strange dream. You woke me up, and we were going to go to my surprise, but you said we had to wait for Jeffery, and-”

“Oh, honey! You're cold!”

“I'm what?”, said Timothy, confused.

“You're cold! But you're sweating! I'm calling the doctor.”

Margaret left the bedroom, and he could soon hear her talking on the phone with the doctor. He touched his forehead; it was cold. Stone cold. So was his arm, and his leg, and the rest of his body. Ice cold. He shivered. The doorbell rang.

“Wow, that was fast!”, exclaimed Margaret.

Timothy could hear her answer the door.

“Who are you? You're not the doctor.”

“No, I'm not,” said a man with a raspy voice. “I'm here for Timothy.”

“He's in the bedroom...but who are you? What do you want?”

“I'm Jeffery,” he said, “The undertaker.”

title: Wait 'till Jeffery Comes

question: Does Timothy know he's dead?

answer: It may be. In his dream, his wife tells him that there is no need to worry about work.

question: Why is Margaret described as happy and excited about where they are going?

answer: Perhaps he thinks that she won't be as unhappy about his death as a devoted wife could be. This idea may be reinforced by the fact that Margaret hasn't been herself lately. She's been distant.

question: Was it a dream?

answer: Perhaps Margaret poisoned him with the breakfast they had while waiting for Jeffrey. This contention may be reinforced by her apparent surprise at how fast the undertaker got there.

question: What is the significance of the fuzzy TV?

answer: Perhaps it signifies him passing out, especially since he quickly ends up sleeping on the floor. Why would you sleep on the floor unless you passed out?

question: Write a ~18 sentence summary.

answer:
Timothy’s wife, Margaret, wakes him at 3.20 am. He’s confused and asks why she has woken him so early. She says they’re going somewhere but they have to wait for Jeffrey. He’s reluctant but he gets out of bed and dresses.

Margaret makes breakfast and still they wait for Jeffrey. He wants to know where they are going but she insists that it’s a surprise. They continue to wait and eventually Timothy is lying on the floor and Margaret fades into blackness.

Margaret wakes him. He’s back in his bed. He asks how he got into his bed. It’s 5.48 am. He asks if Jeffrey’s here yet. Margaret doesn’t know who Jeffrey is. He says he must have been dreaming. He’s ice-cold. Margaret phones the doctor. Then there is a knock on the door. It’s Jeffrey, the undertaker.


text:
Many of us grab our morning coffee without thinking about the effect our caffeine hit has on the environment. Yet when you hear the statistics, they’re hard to ignore. Every day in the UK we use around seven million disposable coffee cups, amounting to 2.5 billion a year. And according to the Environmental Audit Committee, only one in 400 cups can be recycled – less than 0.25 per cent. But there are some cafés trying to make a positive change. These London spots not only serve lovely coffee and food, they’re doing their bit to reduce waste, from changing to eco-friendly coffee roasting processes to using biodegradable cups.

Kiss The Hippo

[Kiss The Hippo]

Opened last year in the heart of sunny Richmond, Kiss The Hippo is a pioneer in the farm to table coffee movement. Not only can guests enjoy premium coffee brewed on site, they can take part in home brewing workshops to make freshly roasted coffee which they can then use at home. It’s also a lovely brunch spot, with dishes like scrambled tofu on sourdough and almond butter toast on offer alongside tasty treats – all made using ethically sourced seasonal ingredients. _kissthehippo.com_

Wild Food Café

[Wild Food Cafe]

Healthy eatery Wild Food Café is concerned not only with the health of its customers, but the health of the planet. Being a vegan, organic, raw-food pioneer, the ethos of being environmentally friendly is the heart and soul of the company. They serve organic products, use eco-friendly packaging and biodegradable cups, and with each bill 99p is added to enable the planting of a fruit tree in the developing world. _wildfoodcafe.com_

Ozone

Coffee roasting company Ozone was founded in New Zealand in 1998 with the aim of connecting coffee lovers to coffee farms. In 2012 they expanded overseas, launching a site in London’s Shoreditch, followed by a second branch just opened in Bethnal Green. Here beans are roasted in-house, and food menus are created using local produce. Honeycomb, for instance, comes from just six miles away in Crouch End, while quality cured meats are bought from Cobble Lane Cured in Islington just down the road. The restaurant has also been designed with the planet in mind, with chairs made from recycled plastic sourced from the fish farming industry in the north of Norway. _ozonecoffee.co.uk_

Caravan

_[Caravan Fitzrovia]_

Caravan is a market leader in sustainability. Not only are its coffee cups 100 per cent compostable, customers with a reusable cup get a 50p discount. Plastic straws are also banned, and customers are only given a biodegradable alternative when requested. They’ve also got a dedicated Green Coffee team, who travel round the world visiting farmers to create long-term sustainable and personal relationships. Produce is sourced sustainably, and in-house where possible – they make their own charcuterie, Kombucha, shrubs and soda._ caravancoffeeroasters.co.uk_

Origin Coffee

Eco-friendly coffee roasters Origin Coffee have a sustainability officer, responsible for ensuring all environmental policies are implemented. They recently switched to a natural carbonated water decaf process, which involves submerging the coffee in pressurised water and adding CO2 to draw the caffeine from the bean. The caffeine is then treated as a waste product, and resold for commercial use, which is much better for the environment than the alternative: a roasting process handled in Canada. Origin have cafes across London in Shoreditch, Hammersmith, Southwark and The British Library, so look out for one while you’re out and about in the city. _origincoffee.co.uk_

Bambusa (temporarily closed)

[Bambusa]

A Modern Asian café on Fitzrovia’s Charlotte Street, Bambusa is solely based on sustainable packaging. Breakfast and lunch are served in sugarcane packaging, while bespoke Malabar house blend coffee is served in biodegradable cups. _bambusalondon.com_

Farmstand (temporarily closed)

[Farmstand]

With branches in Covent Garden and Canary Wharf, Farmstand cooks up a healthy, seasonal menu using local produce from UK-based suppliers. Though the menu is 80 per cent plant based, they also serve a small amount of sustainable fish and ethical meat dishes. They also use only compostable packaging, don’t sell single-use plastic water bottles, and are committed to equal pay – all staff are owners of the business, and the highest paid person is only paid 2.5 times the lowest paid person. ‘You can’t offer healthy sustainable food if your founder or your senior team are being paid substantially more than others,’ says founder Steven Novick. _farmstand.co.uk_

Rail House Café

[Rail House Cafe]

Rail House café founder Adam White is in the process of finding a sustainable charity partner for the group – but in the mean time, they’re taking a number of steps in the right direction. At Victoria’s Rail House Café, takeaway cups and lids are 100 per cent compostable, no plastic straws are used, and any excess produce goes into preparing staff meals to minimise wastage. _railhouse.cafe_

Daylesford Brompton Cross

[Daylesford Pizza]

A leader in the eco-friendly food movement, Daylesford Brompton Cross celebrates a zero-waste policy, ensuring packaging is recyclable, reusable or compostable, and no food is thrown away. Any extra food is sent to The Felix Project, who go on to redistribute it to those in need around London, while straws are made from wheat stalks and customers are encouraged to bring their own reusable cups. Fitting, then, that the three-storey space is designed around a huge oak tree, which was saved by the Bamford family and transformed into a piece of natural art. _daylesford.com_

Farmacy

[Farmacy Interior]

Plant-based Notting Hill eatery Farmacy use recyclable or compostable packaging, adopt a ‘root to fruit’ philosophy, and ensure food waste is kept to an absolute minimum. All ingredients used are either grown on the farm or sourced from local suppliers, and the restaurant champions biodynamic sustainability, with a fully organic and biodynamic wine offering. _farmacylondon.com_

_READ MORE:_ _The Zero Waste Food Movement / Ethical Fashion Brands / Best Charity Shops in London_

question: Why is morning coffee having a bad effect on the environment?

answer: The issue the article brings up is the lack of proper handling of waste. Many of the coffee shops in London do not actually use biodegradable cups. They also may not use eco-friendly coffee roasting processes. Many of the shops listed in the article which do have a good effect on the environment also have vegan or raw foods.

question: Why is locally sourced food important to the author?

answer: Locally sourced food means that the food has less of a carbon footprint. While this is not explicitly stated, the author clearly prefers shops which get their wares from local suppliers. They describe in detail how the food comes from local London sources.


text:
I can see them.

They are usually fluttering around, some watching, some writing on their tablets. I always wonder what they are writing about; news, faces, people? What they see, or what we missed? I do not know, nope. I do not. And they move fast, really fast. Oh, and that one is smiling at me. I like it when they smile, it makes me feel warm and safe inside. They have very pretty smiles.

Describe them? Oh no, I couldn't, I shouldn't even try. They are the most amazing colors. Gold, red, blue, yes. And then some I have never seen in my life. Strange, swirling colors, like the color of joy. I do not know the color, but that's what color his robe is right now. They are big and strong, and small and unassuming, all at once. A living contradiction; yup, that's what they are. At least, I think they are alive. Do angels live? I'd like to think so. Nothing so beautiful could possibly be dead.

The other ones might be, though. I do not like them, no, not a bit. They scare me, very dark and eerie. They look like giant bats, always there, clinging to people. They are horribly, horribly ugly, with leather wings and distorted faces. Even scarier is when they pretend to be beautiful people. I am glad that they can't hide their flicking tail, or else no one would be able to tell the difference. When they smile, it's an evil, wicked smile. Sometimes they chase me. I run as fast as I can, but they are much faster. They make horrible faces and laugh like hyenas, and I scream and swing my arms and legs until they get bored and go away.

But they don't like the beautiful ones. That's why I stay near them, yup, that's why. I like to be where there are a lot of them, especially when they start singing. It's more beautiful than any choir I've ever heard before. They like to hang aroun the zoo. Always a lot of them there, and at the hospital near here. I don't have the money to go to the hospital though. Sometimes they help me, and point to a good spot to find food or a blanket, or a warm place to sleep at night. Yes, I like the beautiful ones a lot.

There are a whole bunch of them up ahead. They are all crowed around a building, fluttering around the roof and walls. Oh, good! I always like to find more spots where they hang out. They are almost covering the building, and I can't wait to go inside. That one is shaking his head at me. Why? I won't stay long, won't cause any trouble. Sometimes that bothers people, but I won't do that. I just want to go inside...

What happened? Oh no, this is wrong, this is very wrong. There aren't any beautiful ones in here at all. They are all looking in the windows and the skylight. But the ugly ones are everywhere, everywhere I look. They are crawling all over people sitting on the cushioned benches. There is a man up front talking to them. No, wait, it's not a man; it's one of the uglies. I almost missed his tail. That was close. None of the people are scared. Can't they see the uglies? Maybe they are used to it.

I am really scared. Maybe if I stand really still and quiet, they won't see me. The uglies begin hissing and smiling at me, and I'm afraid they are going to start chasing me. The people are lookinig back at me now too. They frown and glare, scooting further and further away. But I won't hurt them; it's the uglies they should be worried about. Can they really not see them? I just want to find more beautiful ones.

 I run back outside. The same beautiful one who shook his head at me earlier, he smiles at me, then looks in again. The colors have changed again. His robe is the color of sadness. He looks so very sad, and I start to cry. Why would people bring the uglies into such a beautiful place?

Why are the beautiful ones left crying outside?

title: Schizophrenic in Church

question: why are the uglies in church and the beautiful ones outside?

answer: This must reflect the subconscious beliefs of the narrator

question: Why are the people in the Church scared of the narrator?

answer: He must be behaving strangely

question: Why do the beautiful ones cry outside the church?

answer: Because they are upset by the presence of the uglies that cling to the people

question: What are the uglies?

answer: The evil that men do. They are in church but most can't shed their ugly thoughts

question: Write a ~15 sentence summary.

answer:
The narrator sees the beings fluttering around, watching, writing on their tablets. They move fast and sometimes they smile pretty smiles. They are big and strong and small and unassuming all at once. They are angels.

The other ones are dark and eerie and maybe dead things. They look like giant bats and they cling to people. They have leather wings and distorted faces. Sometimes they pretend to be beautiful but you can see their flicking tails.
Are
The narrator stays close to the beautiful ones because the uglies don’t like them. He is homeless and the beautiful ones help him to find food and shelter.
He sees a building surrounded by beautiful ones. He goes inside. The uglies are crawling all over the people who appear to be unaware of their presence. The uglies and the people start to stare at him. The people frown and glare at him but he’s confused he won’t hurt them it’s the uglies that will.


text:
The DOM OSÓRIO STOFFEL STATE PARK () is a state park in the state of Mato Grosso, Brazil. It protects an area of the cerrado biome.

Location

The Dom Osório Stoffel State Park is in the municipality of Rondonópolis, Mato Grosso. It has an area of . It extends south from the Vermelho River to the west of the Rondonópolis Airport. The Ribeirăo Ponte da Pedra runs through the park from the south to join the Vermelho.

Environment

The park is in the cerrado biome. It has more than 280 species of trees and 500 species of fauna, including several threatened with extinction. The park is rich in watercourses, waterfalls and wildlife, and is a breeding area for fish. The goal is to protect water resources, allow movement of native fauna species and preserve a representative sample of the ecosystems, while allowing controlled use by the public for education and scientific research.

History

The Dom Osório Stoffel State Park was created by decree 5.437 of 12 November 2002. The consultative council was created on 6 October 2010. The management plan was published on 12 November 2012, providing guidance on how the park can be used in a sustainable way for purposes such as ecotourism and environmental education. On 17 October 2014 the proprietors of land in the park were asked to present documentation on their claims.

Notes

Sources

-   -   -   -

Category:State parks of Brazil Category:Protected areas established in 2002 Category:2002 establishments in Brazil Category:Protected areas of Mato Grosso

title: Dom Osório Stoffel State Park

question: What is the Dom Osorio Stoffel State Park?

answer: A state park in the state of Mato Grosso, Brazil.

question: Where is the park situated?

answer: In the municipality of Rondonópolis, Mato Grosso. It extends south from the Vermelho River to the west of the Rondonópolis Airport. The Ribeirăo Ponte da Pedra runs through the park from the south to join the Vermelho.

question: What makes the park notable?

answer: It protects an area of the cerrado biome with 280 species of trees and 500 species of fauna, including several threatened by extinction.

question: When was the park created?

answer: November 12, 2002

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: The Dom Osorio Stoffel State Park was created November 12, 2002 and is situated in the municipality of Rondonópolis, Mato Grosso. It extends south from the Vermelho River to the west of the Rondonópolis Airport. The Ribeirăo Ponte da Pedra runs through the park from the south to join the Vermelho. It protects an area of the cerrado biome with 280 species of trees and 500 species of fauna, including several threatened by extinction.


text:
	I stand on the stage, putting off the beginning of the performance as long as possible.  The band that I play guitar for was supposed to start four minutes ago. We're the opening act for two bands out from LA on there way through Small Town, Utah on their tour. Now, there just waiting on us to get the show started. Waiting on me. But I'm being selfish. I do that sometimes.
	Me – I'm waiting for something. *Someone* actually, but that's just semantics, and due to my motives it could be argued that what happens after she gets here is more important right now. And it probably is. Then, in she walks, standing next to my sister who made the eighty mile round trip to pick her up and bring her here for me. For a second I forget where I am; what I'm doing. It's like this every time I see her. The most gorgeous, perfect person in the world, with this never-fading energy coming off of her that makes my heart miss a few beats.
	She's my ex-girlfriend. We're *friends* now. My grandma calls her Hope, even though that's not her name. We'll call her Hope, too. Now, like every time I see her, I start acting off of instinct. Not the lower instinct of animals, but the higher instinct of the emotional beasts that humans are. I step off the stage, force my way to her, and pull her close.
	I say, pay attention.
	I say, I'm going to show you what my love for you means.

	Before she has a chance to even part her lips, I'm back on stage, and we're barreling through the intro to our set. Well, I'm pretty sure we are. Like I told her, I'm showing what I feel for her. Pouring every ounce of love, passion, happiness, anger, and sorrow into every note I play. It's probably not as impressive to everyone else as it is in my head.
	The set goes on, and with each verse, each chorus, each contrived guitar solo, and every cleverly placed stop, syncopation, and harmony we play, I'm emptying more and more of my soul into what I'm doing. She's gotta be fucking loving it.
	Twenty-eight minutes of this feels like a second and a lifetime simultaneously, because every moment with this girl is at once a blink of an eye, and the passing of an era. One beautiful second is a gorgeous eternity.
	After the finale of our opening set, I drop my guitar and run to her again.
	I say, meet me out back in five minutes.
	I say, I love you.

	Five minutes later, I've hauled my stuff off stage, and helped to get the next band's gear in it's place. Five minutes later, I'm outside standing face to face with the one I love.
	I say, you know this isn't the end for us, Hope. You know we can't go on like this anymore. I know that I hurt you, and you know that I'm sorry.
	I say, it's okay, though. Because there are two ways I see this going.
	I say, first is, you stop all this. You and I give us another chance, like I know you want to. And you know I want to. Everything's perfect. And no one has to hurt more than necessary. Not you, not me, and not John. You know you don't love him, and you know that you won't be happy with him, so you can stop it all now. Then, we end up together again.
	I say, second is, you keep it up. You keep fighting what you know in your heart just because you want to prove me wrong. You and John get together, and that's that. I go my own way, focus on school, and get my life in order. Then, somewhere down the road, we meet again. In my head, it's five years from now. I'm in London, teaching at a college, and I haven't moved on, because you know I won't. You happen to be in London, too, albeit just for the day. You're there for a photo shoot. The famous model you've become. We happen upon each other in the city, and we get talking. Turns out you haven't moved on, either. No one's surprised. You've had your heart broken a few more times, sure. And you've broken a few more hearts yourself. But you haven't moved on. Then, we end up together again.
	I say, your choice.
	I start backing away, and before I turn around to walk to my car I say, I love you, Hope. Goodbye.
	She gets that all-too-familiar bitter tone in her voice again when she says, so what? So now you're just leaving my life?
	I say, I'm going home to figure my life out. You could come with.
	She says, okay.

title: Final Performance.

question: Who is the narrator?

answer: An unnamed guitar player

question: How does the narrator feel about Hope?

answer: He loves her

question: How does Hope feel about the narrator?

answer: It is uncertain how she feels about him

question: Does Hope leave with the narrator?

answer: It is uncertain, but likely.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator is a guitar player and about to play a gig. His ex-girlfriend Hope has come to see him, and the narrator tells her that he will show her what his love for her means. He performs and then talks to her. He wants her to leave John, the man she is currently talking to. He tells her to come with him, and she says okay.


text:
"I'm stressed," he finally exclaimed, slicing through the silent air that threatened to suffocate him. Ther room was adorned with plain, unpainted walls and occupied only by a television, a video game system which sat on standby, a bed, a dresser, and two teenage boys. They carried all the self-assurance that two scrawny sixteen-year-olds could muster. One, he who had spoken, bespectacled and mop-headed, fell onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, his eyes tracing the elliptical orbit of the ceiling fan blades ad infinitum.

"I've got too much work." He said out loud, looking at nothing and yet seeming to notice everything. "It's not like I can't keep up with it all. That's not what's wrong. I just--I have no time, anymore. I wake up late. I rush to get ready for school. I relax for five minutes and eat breakfast. I'm dragged through my school day because of this stupid seven-period schedule. Then I get out, help you with your math work, go home, get my three hours of computer time--sometimes I get a chance to mess around, sometimes I don't even finish all my assignments--oh, and I haven't even mentioned the stress from virtual school--then I study until I pass out from exhaustion and the cycle begins again."

The other boy, a quiet, short curly-haired lad with forlorn eyes, looked over at his friend. "I think a lot of students deal with that kind of stuff. The good ones, anyway. And you've got straight A's, right? So what's the problem?"

The bespectacled boy rose to sit on the edge of the bed such that he could make eye contact with the other one. "It's not like I don't understand a B is good--you're a B student  and you do pretty well--but, I mean, I'm a good student. B's are like failing to me. I've got college to think about, soon, and I'll never get in with the GPA I have right now. It's a three point two. A three point two! All because of that crap I had to deal with in middle school that ended up getting me stuck taking all virtual classes freshman year. And now I have to do all this just to get into a decent college. On top of that, I barely know what I want to do when I'm growing up. This... this is it, pal. We're almost out and we need to make the best of the time we have left."

"We've got time," the other reminded him, breaking eye contact and glancing at the enticing patterns in the carpet.

"Not enough! They always tell you every year that this is the most important school year if you want to get anywhere. You need to finish school with a twelve point oh and then graduate from a top college and get a high-paying job in order to be happy and if you misstep once you're utterly screwed!"

The boy's voice had transformed from bitter mockery to flooding desperation. He fell back and a loud thud accompanied his descent as his head crashed into the wall behind him.

"You okay?" the other boy asked in reaction to the noise.

"Fine," he answered through clenched teeth, making no attempt to hide his teary eyes.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. The two sat there observing their respective mediums--the bespectacled boy the ceiling and the quiet boy the carpet. Finally, after a few moments, they both opened their mouths at the same time and a garbled combination of syllables escaped.

"What was that?" the quiet one asked.

"Just more of the same," the stressed one answered. "Yours?"

After a few more moments of expectant emptiness, words began to fill the void.

"I knew this kid in middle school--a prodigy, a genius. They all said he was as smart as Einstein, or... something. The mistake he made was," he paused, pensive, for a moment, "forgetting to be a kid. He was so focused on the future and getting good grades that he let it become his life. All the other kids at the school would always bully him and he didn't really have any friends except for himself. He was so focused on his work all the time that he forgot. He forgot to live life and just relax once in a while. He was in my gym class. He always came in every day and had some excuse note signed by his parents--he always had a sore throat or a bad cold or something. And the teacher would just wave him over to the sidelines and he would sit on the bench all class, playing his Game Boy or doing homework. I remember this one day he did bad on a test or something--I think that was it, he got a C--and his parents exploded on him. They wouldn't let him out of the house for a few days and he had a lot of work to make up when he finally came back to school."

There was a pause in the story. The bespectacled boy's mind was whirring, trying to assimilate the tale into his own situation. Then the other child continued.

"I guess the stress was just too much for him. One day, while his parents were out, he went into his mom's room. I guess he knew just where to look. He removed the shoe box from under the bed and he pulled out a gun and he killed himself."

The silence, this time, was dreadful.

"He got a small article in the paper. They never made an announcement at school or anything. They never even mentioned his name in the obituary, I think."

The fan blades, their centrifuge slightly askew, and the cranking of the gears in the boys' minds reverberated throughout the room.

"What was his name?"

The quiet boy looked up as the question pierced his eardrum, seeming to have not expected that. He struggled to pull a name from his memory but finally responded dismally.

"I... can't remember."

The other boy nodded. The silence, returning, enveloped them, caressed them.

"What do you think happens when you die?" the quiet one inquired, finally, his eyes directed at the wall, staring through them into the realms beyond.

"I don't really know. I don't think we, as humans, are meant to know something like that. What about you?"

He sat in trance for a moment. Finally, he spoke.

"I think... I think, whether you were shot in the heart with a pistol, or poisoned by an enemy, or--or offed by old age, when they mention your name and nobody can remember you--your face, your voice, your words, your actions--that... is when you are truly dead."

"What if you remember his actions but not his name?"

"Screw you."

title: This is Our Autobiography

question: Who are the two characters in the story?

answer: Students.

question: What do the two students discuss?

answer: How stressed they are.

question: What does the B student say to the A student?

answer: That it's good to just live a bit.

question: What story does the B student tell?

answer: A story about a genius kid in Middle School who kills himself because the pressure his parents put on him was so hard. The two students then have a discussion about death.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: The story is about two students, one of whom is tutoring the other. The one who is tutoring talks about how stressed he is with everything he has to do. The one who is tutored tells him the story of a student who was such a genius he never remembered to be a kid and wound up killing himself. They wonder what life is like after death, and if you're remembered even if no one remembers your name.


text:
The 1982 FISCHER-GRAND PRIX was a men's tennis tournament played on indoor hard courts at the Wiener Stadthalle in Vienna, [Austria that was part of the 1982 Volvo Grand Prix. It was the eighth edition of the tournament and was held from 18 October until 24 October 1982. First-seeded Brian Gottfried won the singles title, his third at the event after 1977 and 1980.

Finals

Singles

Brian Gottfried defeated Bill Scanlon 6–1, 6–4, 6–0

-   It was Gottfried's 4th title of the year and the 73rd of his career.

Doubles

Henri Leconte / Pavel Složil defeated Mark Dickson / Terry Moor 6–1, 7–6

-   It was Leconte's 3rd title of the year and the 4th of his career. It was Složil's 8th title of the year and the 11th of his career.

title: 1982 Fischer-Grand Prix

question: What sport was played at the 1982 Fischer-Grand Prix?

answer: Tennis was the sport of the 1982 Fischer-Grand Prix.

question: Where was the Prix held?

answer: The tournament was played on indoor hard courts at the Wiener Stadthalle in Vienna, Austria.

question: Who won the tournament?

answer: Brian Gottfried won the singles title. Henri Leconte and Pavel Složil won the doubles title.

question: How much prize money did the winner obtain?

answer: Not answered.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: The 1982 Fischer-Grand Prix was a men's tennis tournament played in Vienna, Austria. Brian Gottfried won the singles title. Henri Leconte and Pavel Složil won the doubles title.


text:
**I wrote this as a 'technical' exercise in story telling. I've been trying to find a style, experimenting with different methods. If you have any feedback, I'd love to hear it. I wasn't going to do anything else with the story but if you have an idea about where you thought it would go, that'd be interesting to hear too ;-)**

“It’s funny when you think about the things that used to be important in’t it?” Darren asked of nobody in particular. “You know, when you’d save up your brass for the latest bit of kit; going to work every day, takin’ shit off folk, trying to get yer sen up the ladder, just for a bit more brass, perpetuating the bullshit cycle and all that.”

The other 2 men seated in the dark office remained silent. The paraphernalia of bureaucracy lay scattered about the place. Papers littered the floor and the powerless computer screens stared out from desks like dead eyes.

“See the thing is, it’s sort of ironic innit?” continued Darren, licking away the bead of sweat that had formed on his upper lip. “After putting all that effort into working to try and get the stuff we wanted, we’re still ‘ere working when all the stuff we want has gone and we’re not very likely to ever see it again.”

Christian loosened his tie and rose to his feet. Regarding Darren with a barely disguised look of contempt he drew himself up to his full 6 feet and fixed the smaller man with a hard stare.

“I’ll tell you what Darren.” he said. “Your constant rambling is starting to get right on my tits. At the end of the day, I’m pretty fucking sure nobody chose to find themselves in this situation, and even in the state that we’re in, we’re faring quite a good deal better than most of the other poor bastards out there.”

Christian remembered the first time he met Darren, a replacement for an assistant promoted to pastures new. He’d arrived late, a small bloke with ratlike features who scuttered into his office dressed in a ill-fitting cheap suit, shiny at the arse and elbows, worn thin through years of sitting slouched over a desk. Christian couldn’t help but wonder if he was still wearing the same suit now, 5 years later.

Darren’s eyes darted away from the intense stare. “I d’int mean anything by it mate. Just trying to make conversation is all. You know what I mean don’t you Baz?”

Barry, the third member of the group looked up from the floor where an errant paperclip had held his attention for the last 5 minutes, opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it, lowering his gaze to the floor again.

Christian turned to face the shuttered windows of the office and chanced a peek through the slats into the outside world below.

“Stay away from the window Chris!” hissed Barry, startling Christian and causing him turn quickly and bang his leg against an office table. “They can’t know we’re in here. We’ve heard from no-one else for ages so we’ve pretty much got to assume we’re ‘it’ now.”

Rubbing his leg Christian hobbled across to Barry who - still seated - turned his head to face him.

“Let’s put it this way Baz.” Christian lowered his face to Barry’s level. “We were set up to deal with this, well, for want of a better word ‘situation’, but at the end of the day how likely do you think ‘they’ thought it was that this situation would or could ever happen?”

“I’d not really thought about it to be honest Chris.” replied Barry. “But as it has happened, don’t you think we should try and do something about it?”

“Do what? Me, you and Shirley Bassey here against, well, against all of that out there?” he adjusted his posture to indicate the shuttered window. “What exactly do you propose we do?”

title: Where does this go?

question: What does the story say about Darren?

answer: Darren rants about their uneventful lives in the office. The other 2 men seated find it awkward but Darren continues to rant. This makes Christian mad.

question: What does the story say about Darren and Christian?

answer: Darren rants about their uneventful lives in the office. The other 2 men seated find it awkward but Darren continues to rant. This makes Christian mad. Darren backpedals and asks for help from Barry.

question: What does the story say about its setting?

question: What does the story say about Barry and Christian?

answer: Darren rants about their uneventful lives in the office. The other 2 men seated find it awkward but Darren continues to rant. This makes Christian mad. Darren backpedals and asks for help from Barry. Barry tells Christian to stay away from the window so that they do not get caught.


text:
My sleep is useless to me now, so I keep placing them in sandwich bags. It's comforting to me. It's familiar. But it doesn't help me any. I stop using sandwich baggies and start to use baby food jars instead. For some reason that I can't explain to myself, it's all that I've been eating: baby food. Maybe it's because it's easy on my stomach. Maybe it's because the jars are cute. Maybe it's because cute things remind me of her. Maybe it's because I keep thinking that she'd be the mother of my kids. Maybe it's because I was mourning our non-existent family. I don't really know.

It's been a three weeks since we had broken up and I started eating baby food so now I have several dozens of these jars lying around my apartment. When I had first put my sleep in them, I didn't bother washing them out. I figured that my sleep would benefit from having a little "mashed-peas" flavoring to them, or maybe a little hint of "mashed bananas and strawberries." Clearly, clarity of thought wasn't my strong suit at this point. Doesn't sleep with a hint of kiwi sound good? Six to Eight hours of restful sleep, now in tropical flavors.

We were supposed to go on a tropical vacation together. If not, maybe just up to Vancouver. I've never been there before, but she told me that it was a real clean city. "It'll be so much fun!" she said. I believed her too. Still do. But I can't do that now and I think I hate Vancouver. It doesn't matter anyway. I have my sleep to pack. So much sleep to pack. What's worse is that the dream penguins are starting to become permanent. Well, at least one anyway. I've named him Bear and he's been following me for the last two days. The weird thing is that he listens to me and can actually fetch me things.

"Can you bring me that bag over there, Bear?"I ask.

He looks around and somehow I know that he doesn't see any.

"We've ran out?"

Bear nods.

"Hmm.. " I say.

But I see Bear shuffle around and walk into my room. I hear some ruckus and then he's back bringing me a baby-food jar.

"For my sleep?"

Bear doesn't even need to nod. Our thoughts, they're one.

I notice that he's cleaned out the jar. I don't know how how's managed to do it, but I take it in my hand and hold it up to the light. It's very clean. I wonder if it smells so I bring it up to my nose and, to my surprise, find that it has a very pleasing scent. A sort of airy, sunny-day type scent.

"How'd you-" I start, but the look he gives me tells me to stop.

"Ok, that's fine."

I imagine that I've somehow deluded myself into believing that Bear really exists and that I actually cleaned the jar out by myself, but I'm so tired that I don't give it anymore thought than that and accept Bear is real. Bear is my only friend.

I have two boxes of sleep saved up. Because the baby food jars are smaller than the sandwich baggies, I only manage to fit in about 4 maybe for hours worth. I haven't really figured out how to measure my sleep yet, so I'm guessing at the amount. I'm assuming that because I'm managing only to fit half as much sleep into the jars that the amount of rest would be half. Half is an approximation as well because  sometimes I have extra left over and sometimes I'm unable to fill two jars with one night of sleep.

God, I'm tired.

Bear nudges me.

Right, Right.

I have to fill this jar.
I have to fill this jar.

title: Sleep in a Jar

question: Why does the protagonist "pack" his sleep in baggies and jars?

answer: He's delusional from not sleeping, in his mind he's saving it for later.

question: Why does the protagonist only eat baby food?

answer: Because it's easy on his stomach; because the jars are cute and cute things remind him of his ex; he's fixated on imagining a family with her that will never be.

question: Is bear the penguin real?

answer: No, he admits he knows it's not real, but he's having a psychotic break hallucinating that it's real.

question: What does he mean he has two boxes of sleep saved up?

answer: He's psychotic, it doesn't make sense, but he believes it.

question: Write a ~6 sentence summary.

answer: The protagonist just got out of a bad break from a relationship he had imagined going the distance with. He's not sleeping and he's only eating baby food. The baby food is easy on his stomach and the jars remind him of his ex and the family he'll never have with her. He's hallucinating a penguin named "bear" that helps him "pack" his sleep into baggies and jars. He says he's saving up the sleep for later. He's totally lost hold of reality.