text:
This is the ending of the first dream I ever remember. It was the only time I ever "met" my grandfather who died six months before I was born. I was three when I had it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The air was ephemeral.

It was more of a concept than anyone that young should embrace, but it was. The air, what else could you call it? It was ephemeral. Each breath lasted within the nostrils for only a moment and then they scintillated through his flesh as does daybreak from the pupils. That's all the longer it needed to and then it was gone. Thick and heady, but then only a memory. It was just as the colors, the sounds, the smells...everything; so ephemeral.

The cousins, they bounded off into the distance. They were free, joyous, and ignorant. All of them knew nothing except what was in front of them except one. She looked back. Her eyes filled with fear, resentment, and longing from beneath inky bangs. She wanted what she could never ask for, for what she'd eventually bridle herself with, but for what could never be given. Even she turned away.

"This is your responsibility. I wish I could spare you some of it. It is yours...all of it."

These were ancient words, far older concepts, more than a young mind could bear. The elderly man stooped down among crimson leaves hanging from emerald capped mushrooms beneath lavender skies.

"This is as far as I can bring you. You will have to carry them the rest of the way."

The young boy, still silent, looked to the rest of his party. They were his age and a bit older. They were smarter, wiser, more independent. As they bounded off he wondered what else he could possibly have to offer them. The fear and turmoil was nothing to them. They didn't register the terror as he did. What more guidance could he offer them?

"There are far more my boy. They have much farther to go; much farther than you or I have traveled and much farther than you can imagine. They are your responsibility though. You have to pull them through."

The boy's eyes watered. It was the stress of responsibility and the weight of inevitability. It was the strain weighing on nerves and thoughts which could barely sustain their own mass, much less the heaving of eternity. Yet here it all met. Timelines, seemingly so incongruent yet so inevitable, meeting at the crossroads of ancient history and fate's inexorable rails.

"It isn't fair, I know. We've done the best we can for you, and I admit, it's not enough. I don't think it is enough, but I know it must be enough. You will bring them, not just *them*," nodding to the little girls bounding off to consciousness, "but all of them. It won't be pretty and you probably won't think you'll do it well, but you must believe me -- if you won't believe anyone else --  no one else can do this thing. You will bring them through. You will bring them through the darkness, the forest, the things that they fear, and the things which fear you. Most importantly, only you can bring them through that which you fear most."

That was what broke the dam of tears. That elicited fear and sadness and doubt. The boy shuddered under the weight of this promise. This was the promise which would break anyone, the one not made by a man but made to a man. It incapacitated him, it emancipated him, and still it endowed him with a lifetime of duty.

"In the end this will hurt more than any pain I could inflict," and now the old man began to cry, slow streams of tears down a creased face as he knelt to hold the boys trembling cheeks in his hands for one last time, "but it will save them, it will save me, and most importantly my boy, it will save you."

They embraced. The boy's tiny arms struggled to wrap around the elderly man's withering frame. It was the first time. It was the last time. It was the only time.

The boy looked at him in his somber pinstriped suit. The navy lines barely registered among  the dark charcoal wool which covered him from saddle shod toes to fedora lined brow. The subdued colors shone brightly against the ghastly hued landscape. The boy walked away towards both liberty and incarceration.

Of all the colors he looked back on the only one he could truly remember were those refracted through his grandfather's tears. The light that passed through the drops of his eyes carried everything. They carried hope, doubt, strength, weakness, triumph, and failure. They carried lifetimes. They carried the weight, the eternal weight, the weight no sane man could accept and no honorable man could reject.

Then he awoke. For the first time, he truly awoke.

title: The First Dream's Farewell

question: Summarize what the passage says about the grandfather choosing the narrator.

answer: No answer

critique: The response misses to provide a response to the task.

critique: Swords, it didn't work when you added links to the answer section, do not add anymore.

critique: The response misses to mention that the grandfather chooses the narrator to be the one to take care of his cousins.

critique: The response misses to answer the question.

question: What according to the passage is the grandfather's role?

answer: The grandfather is the one who gives the boy the responsibility of looking after his cousins.

critique: The answer should mention that the grandfather also gives the boy a lifetime of duty.

critique: "The grandfather is the one who gives the boy the responsibility of looking after his cousins." - is inaccurate. It's the role of the last messenger that the grandfather fulfills. Rewrite the answer.

critique: The grandfather is the one who gives the boy the responsibility of bringing his cousins through their trials

critique: The answer should mention that the grandfather is dead.

critique: It is omitted that the grandfather also gives the boy a lifetime of duty.

critique: The answer should mention the grandfather's role as a guide.

question: Summarize the emotional journey of the little boy.

answer: The little boy is overcome with the weight of responsibility for his cousins and his grandfather. He is overcome with fear and sadness and doubt. He is also sad because he realizes that it is the first and last time that he embraces his grandfather. He is at first overwhelmed by the stress of the responsibility he has been given. He has to pull his cousins through the dark and the things that they fear. His grandfather tells him that he will have to go through this pain to keep the promise that he will save the cousins. At the end of the story, he wakes up feeling truly awake.

critique: "He is also sad because he realizes that it is the first and last time that he embraces his grandfather." - this is incorrect. The boy was never sad because it was the first and last time he embraced his grandfather. He was sad because he was overcome with the weight of responsibility.

critique: It is omitted that the boy is crying after his grandfather's words.

critique: It is irrelevant in this case that the narrator is overwhelmed by the responsibility he has been given.

critique: The first sentence is unnecessary. It's already stated in the second sentence.

critique: The boy is overcome with the weight of responsibility for his cousins and his grandfather. He is overcome with fear and sadness and doubt. He is also sad because he realizes that it is the first and last time that he embraces his grandfather. He is at first overwhelmed by the stress of the responsibility he has been given. He has to pull his cousins through the dark and the things that they fear. His grandfather tells him that he will have to go through this pain to keep the promise that he will save the cousins. At the end of the story, he wakes up feeling truly awake.


split: train

text:
The room had a bright white ceiling and floor. The walls were mirrors and the lights were hidden in a panel on the ceiling. We had a test subject stuck in there for us to experiment. He only stares at the white ceiling, oh, and back at the white floor. There was no log on the man, nothing of significance when we found him. He had been in solitary confinement for 23 years - his entire life, really. He has never seen any human being but me and my researcher, Don. Don and I have been designated to care for the man and continue to watch him until something happens. It’s immoral, disgusting, but we’re assigned to do it and it’s really quite an interesting job.

Ding.

That’s the bell. Don and I enter the room with the subject. The subject paid no attention, just doing what he usually does. Never interacted with us in any way, we don’t even know if he’s developed a language. We tried getting words from him since we met him.

“Hello! How is it? Are you feeling okay? Insane? What’s goin’ on up there, buddy?” Don continued to harass the subject into speaking. “You gonna talk? Anything ya need? Jeesh, what’s the matter with ya?”

“He’s not gonna speak Don, just leave it.”

“Well, if he isn’t going to speak, then what the hell do we do? He’s not interacting with us in anyway and it’s become a waste of our time.”

I crouched down with the subject. I opened my hand in front of him, seeing if he would shake it. Or even look at it. Don tapped my shoulders.

“I got a call, I’ll be right back.” Don left the room and sealed the door shut. I was alone with the subject now, for the first time. I still had my hand out in front of him.

“Hand.” The subject looked at my hand. “Hand.”

To my surprise, the subject spoke. I pulled my hand back and waited for something to happen.

“Hey, can you understand English?” I looked at the subject in his eyes. They looked… different.

“Yes, of course I can. You don’t think I have basic knowledge of a language? You beings have trapped me here for several times and you don’t think I captured all of your words and managed to understand them?”

“Well, you just never spoke. I’m sorry, I guess.”

“How can you be sorry when you have trapped me here for all this time? Why do you feel sorry as soon as I speak? What is it that you beings are getting out of this?”

“I, uh - well…” I didn’t have a clue as to what to say. I was completely confused and embarrassed. “It’s just my job and I -”

The door opened. Don came in and stood next to me. “So… anything? Did he speak? Or nothing as usual?”

The subject looked Don in his eyes. “Yes, I have spoken to your friend. Is there anything you would like to say to me, now that I have spoken? Your friend seems to be at lost at words.”

Don laughed and caught himself. “Oh, sorry! Yeah, actually, there is something I would like to say. What’s up with yourself? Why did you speak all of a sudden?”

The subject tilted his head and said nothing. Making the atmosphere of the room even more awkward I decided to play on my phone to stay away from their little conflict.

Don was infuriated. “So, you decided to stop speaking, huh? Like the little bitch you are. Hey, guess what? I have a little surprise for you, and I think you’re gonna like it!”

I was scared what Don was going to do next. I kept quiet and watched Don exit the room to get something. The door opened once again and someone else had entered with Don.

That someone else was the twin of the subject. The twin looked exactly like the subject, same physical features, clothes, haircut, etc.

Don pushed the twin near the subject. “Subject, meet yourself!”

I looked at Don. “Don, what are you doing?”
	“Don’t worry! I’m just introducing Subject to himself.”

The subject looked at the twin and touched it. “Is this… me?”

Don laughed. “Yep! This is your real body, brain, soul, everything really! If this thing dies, you die.”

The subject opened his eyes in shock. “Then, what am I in?”

Don continued to harass the subject. “You’re a robot! You’re just thinking from your real body, this body right here!”

The subject no longer spoke. He just stared at the twin in silence. I wanted to say something to the subject, but I couldn’t. I was eager to see why Don was doing this.”

Don pulled out a handgun. “You see, Subject, like I said: if this body dies, you die. And you have come to the point where you are virtually a waste of matter. So, why not end you, right?”

The subject still sat in silence, staring at the twin. Don pulled the cock on the handgun and aimed it at the twin’s head.

“Should I pull it? Or are you gonna prove to me you’re gonna do something?”

The subject continued to sit in silence, but no longer staring at the twin.

Don smirked. “Ha, okay… If you say sooo…” Bang. The twin fell to the ground.

The subject looked at the dead body of the twin, convinced that he, himself, had really died.

“I’m dead?” The subject touched himself everywhere, vigorously.

Neither Don nor I spoke. We just looked at him in silence, but I was in complete shock.

“What happens to me?! I still feel alive?! Why have you done this?!” The subject started to spaz out. Don and I walked back to the control room to watch the subject.

“Don, why’d you do that?” I asked.”

“He’s doing something now, isn’t he? Let’s just do this and say it was a psychological experiment.”

I was angry at Don, but the experiment had become interesting as ever. The subject started pulling on his hair, trying to bit his skin off, banging his head on the floor, and trying to rip his tongue out. He continued to yell random words such as hatchet, elephant, light, and process. Over and over.

“Okay, Don, I think we’re done with this subject.” I shut the lights off and the subject stopped.

title: [SF] Subject Testing

question: Summarize the narrator's convesation with the test subject.

answer: The test subject was in a room for 23 years and the narrator and the other researcher were assigned to care for him. The narrator enters the room and tries to get the test subject to speak. The test subject does speak and asks the narrator why they have trapped him there. The narrator says it is his job and he is sorry. The test subject asks why the narrator feels sorry as soon as he speaks. The narrator is confused and embarrassed.

critique: The response does not mention that the test subject is a robot.

question: Summarize everything relating to the test subject's identity.

answer: The test subject is a man who has been in solitary confinement for 23 years. He has never seen any human being but the narrator and Don. He has never interacted with them in any way. He is designated to care for the man and continue to watch him until something happens.

critique: The answer omits the most important part of the test subject's identity.

critique: The response does not provide non-overlapping answers for the "identity" section of the question.

critique: The answer omits that the subject is a robot.

text: Indicate that the man has no logs -which implies that there is no information about him. Omit the part about being designated to cafre for man

category: coverage

question: What does the story say about the purpose of the experiment?

answer: No answer

critique: The answer should mention that the purpose of the experiment is not stated.


text:
HARRINGTON is a township municipality in the Laurentides region of Quebec, Canada, part of the Argenteuil Regional County Municipality. It is located in the Laurentian Mountains, about north-west of Lachute.

Its population centres include Harrington, Lac-Keatley, Lakeview, Lost River, and Rivington.

Geography

Harrington is a land of lakes and rivers, stocked with abundant fish. The Rouge River is the main river flowing through it, and the largest lakes include Lake (Lac) MacDonald, Green Lake, and Lake Harrington, each attracting a large number summer cottage vacationers. Its territory has a characteristic appearance of the Laurentian region with dense forests, rising to an elevation of in the north-east, which is more than Mont Chauve which dominates Green Lake.[1][2]

The Lost River flows for some miles from a spring that disappears under a calcareous rock between Gate Lake and Fraser Lake.[3]

History

Harrington Township first appeared on the Gale and Duberger Map of 1795, but was not settled until 1830 when Scottish pioneers settled in the Lost River area in the east. In 1841, the township is officially established and in 1855, the township municipality was formed.[4]

It is believed that the name Harrington may be attributed to a location in England, however, the local post office was identified under the name of Rivington between 1878 and 1961.[5]

Demographics

thumb|upright=2|Buddhist Monastery of Tam Bao Son in the Township of Harrington Population trend:[6]

-   Population in 2011: 853 (2006 to 2011 population change: 9.8%)
-   Population in 2006: 777 (2001 to 2006 population change: -1.0%)
-   Population in 2001: 785
-   Population in 1996: 730
-   Population in 1991: 729

Private dwellings occupied by usual residents: 436 (total dwellings: 1,361)

Mother tongue:[7]

-   English as first language: 52.6%
-   French as first language: 40.4%
-   English and French as first language: 2.4%
-   Other as first language: 5.6%

Education

The Commission scolaire de la Rivière-du-Nord operates French-language public schools.[8]

-   École polyvalente Lavigne in Lachute

Sir Wilfrid Laurier School Board operates English-language schools:

-   Arundel Elementary School in Arundel serves a portion[9]
-   Laurentian Elementary School in Lachute serves a portion[10]
-   Grenville Elementary School in Grenville serves a portion[11]
-   Laurentian Regional High School in Lachute[12]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6] Statistics Canada: 1996, 2001, 2006, 2011 census

[7] Harrington Census Prolife 2011

[8] “Trouver une école ou un centre.” Commission scolaire de la Rivière-du-Nord. Retrieved on September 24, 2017. For attendance boundary information, click “Par bassin d'école”

[9] “Arundel Elementary Zone.” Sir Wilfrid Laurier School Board. Retrieved on September 16, 2017.

[10] “LAURENTIAN ELEMENTARY ZONE.” Sir Wilfrid Laurier School Board. Retrieved on September 16, 2017.

[11] “About Us.” Grenville Elementary School. Retrieved on September 17, 2017.

[12] “LAURENTIAN REGIONAL HS ZONE.” Sir Wilfrid Laurier School Board. Retrieved on September 4, 2017.

title: Harrington, Quebec

question: What makes Harrington unique when compared to other territories in the Laurentian region?

answer: The township's terrain boasts dense forests, which gives Harrington its characteristic appearance of the Laurentian region.

critique: The answer should mention the elevation.


text:
The Scorching

“I remember one day of winter,” my grandfather looked mistily out the twelve inch synthesized window. He’s one of the few in our colony that knows of winter first hand. I have brought him to the observation point on the western end of The Dome at his request. This is his response to my request to tell us of how life felt in the days before artificial air and extreme heats of the wastelands. “The wind whisked down my neighborhood just as I stepped out into the white blanket on my porch. A chill ran up my legs but I hardly noticed, my friends were already playing across the street. Hmpff, I couldn’t have been taller than I am now.” He looks to me with a smile. “We spent the entire day by the hill behind Wilson’s house. We took sleds and lids down that hill, trying to guide it down to an alley so we could go the farthest. We didn’t stop till we saw a couple girls from school cutting through the alley. Linda Mould and Susan P. Cole,” He turns to me with a special grin. Susan P. Cole was my grandmother.

“I jumped line when I saw them, knew it was a special one the second I started. The boys whopped and hollered behind me, they knew it too. Susan and Linda had to leap from my way just as I flew by and crashed right into the Ralman’s garbage cans. Didn’t think about how I’d stop, never do at that age. No one did in those days.” Something in his voice changes. The mist in his eyes is more of a water haze now, he points to the empty horizon. “I use to see homes, grass, animals, and clouds. I never new that hope for the future was artificial till the mechanics of the world were stripped from us. It didn’t matter what we did to try and stop it neither.” I can see him slipping into more painful memories so I request him to point out when exactly he noticed the world changing first hand.

“Changes? Well them happen often and often.” (He means to say changes happen a great deal and always.) “Well, the first time I realized the talk was true was I woke up in some pain, not a good deal, but enough to shake you to. Round the time I was leaving college I suppose. I looked around my bed for whoever woke me, Susan hadn’t been over that night so I couldn’t figure out who’d hurt my arm. It was near midday and I had spent the better half of the morning sleeping off the night before. I wanted to sleep some more but the sun was slipping between my blinds and onto the side of my bed. I got up to close the drapes, but first to peak outside. I was looking for anyone of note when I noticed warmth and a near instant sting all over my face. I leapt back and closed the drapes. I felt relief right away. I knew it, right then, I knew it. The sun was burning like they said it was, hot and fast. My first thought was to call Susan and see if she was feeling it too.”

It’s not long after that our history lessons pick up, reminding those of us who weren’t yet here that the earth was becoming barren. My grandfather was one the first selected to one of the science division domes. The structures we all have been raised were in fact substitutes for an atmosphere we never knew, so we could have a life we never could have hoped for. “I broke through as a design engineer. Interning for the great Doctor Kepling. Now that man could work, spend entire months ruining chalk boards and burrowing floors with his pacing. I nearly didn’t sleep in my time there trying to keep up with him and the three kids at home. No one really knows his name anymore, yet his design saved what’s left of us.” His sigh holds a lot of weight out of his chest. I decide its time to broche a subject that has been refrained from in my family for years now.

I ask him as gently as possible, what happened in the evacuation. There is a long pause and silence before he can gather the breath to speak. The gruffness I had grown up knowing is back, he is the old man in the recliner I know again. “We…We only got the news of The Flare just as it started. I was at home sleeping in as I had the day off and Susan…Susan should have been shopping. The phone call came and the doctor himself was frazzled. I could tell before he said anything it was happening. I was to stunned to really hear him after that, he said he just wanted to make sure I made it and hung up. I forced myself out of bed and put these packs of necessities and valuables we had made in case it did come. I heard the kids downstairs playing, I yelled for them to get up and get there stuff ready. They knew what I meant but I don’t think they truly new what it meant.” My father swears it was all too quick to remember. One day your breathing humid air, the next day it’s artificial. Kids his age hardly caught on to the significance of things as they went.

“Once we were all packed I rushed the kids out to the car. It was so bright out I could hardly see my way to the car, still I had to find Susan. I had lugged her bag to car with mine. I was going to drive strait to the market to find her. I’ve sweat often before and since then, but I doubt any compared to that day. We got there and I can remember my sprint to the door seeming to last far to long to be a couple dozen feet. I burst through the door and screamed for her, Susan! Susan!” His outcry catches me off guard, “I ran back and forth through the aisles still she is not there. I looked to my watch, If I was to save my children I couldn’t wait any longer. I’d have to hope she received the message and caught the follow up busses to one of the others.

When I returned to car and began to head for my designated dome, it was clear the word was out. People we rushing all about in a frenzy. I don’t ever think I’ve seen such horror on so many men and women’s faces as on that day. I told the kids to duck down so they wouldn’t see. I speed out from our town into the dessert sands towards the dome. I think I was one of the last through, they closed those giant glass doors a little after we passed through.” After this he holds his head in his hands in silent hiding of his face. My Aunt recalls him braking down and crying over the wheel till some nice man came to get them from the back seat. They didn’t see him again for a week. My grandmother was never found, nor has our family ever discussed her final whereabouts.

From there the rest of the word documents well our methods to survival. Two generations of struggle-less survival, made us able to be complacent again. We should stay vigilant in pursuit of the solution; we should never allow ourselves to simply survive, but also to live. Even if it is only our grandchildren who will truly be unscathed. Never may we forget what great human loss we suffered in the Scorching.

title: The Scorching

question: What are the main happy memories that the narrator's grandfather remembers from the days before artificial air and arid wastelands?

answer: The narrator's grandfather remembers playing with his friends as a child. He remembers the chill of winter and the wind whisking down the neighborhood. He remembers the fun of sledding down the hill behind Wilson's house. He remembers the girls he saw cutting through the alley. Most of all, he remembers his first love, Susan P. Cole, who would later become his wife.

critique: The narrator's grandfather's first love was his wife, not Susan P. Cole.

critique: The grandfather's memories are not all happy.

critique: The grandfather's memories of winter are not happy.

critique: Add the name Linda Mould to the list of girls who the narrator's grandfather saw.

critique: The narrator's grandfather does not remember his first love; he remembers seeing her for the first time.

critique: The narrator's grandfather is not the narrator.

question: Where was Susan, the narrator's grandmother, on the day of evacuation into the designated domes?

answer: Susan was shopping.

critique: The answer should include that the narrator's grandfather doesn't know where she was.

critique: The answer could be phrased as a complete sentence.

critique: The answer should be clearer about when she went missing.


text:
A man, blind in one eye, pulls up to the small empty house he was raised in.  A little wood house on a long plot of land.  He enters and settles to live there awhile, spending his time quietly alone. His parents long dead

the town recognizes that he's back, and rumours start circulating that he's a  strange man now, those who knew him hear he's not the same as was, or just gotten worse, than the quiet kid he was.

So one night an old friend pulls up for a visit. Gerry, a friend with whom the man shares a regrettable past, who took the shy little girl he loved in school and then blinded his eye all in the same summer, approaches the house.  Stepping up the drive Gerry observes a pair of binoculars in the man's truck, with some other gear.

The man opens the door enough to see but won't let Gerry in.  He looks out with his good eye, he's big and sweaty, suspicious, beads dripping off him. he looks haggard.

he waits for Gerry to speak.

"Went for a drink by the ball park," Gerry says. "Gotta drive by your folks place whenever I go down there, but there's never lights on until recently. Thought I'd drop in."

The sun has only just set on a 40 acre plot of flat land. Standing on the porch, Gerry suggests they have a drink.

The hesitation in the man's face is gone, a sort of smile creeps, he winks his blind eye, and says "i have company."

"Oh. Well then."

The man peers out at Gerry's car, then his own, then the seat on the porch.

"We could have one out here," Gerry says, "looks like you need a fan in there anyway."

So he puts on a towel, steps out with the smaller man, and they sit.

Gerry jokes about how the binoculars in the truck are bulky for his purposes.

"Funny," the man says, leaning backward. "You mean because of my eye."

"Just a joke," Gerry smiles. Reaching into the six back from his own car between them.

They watch a coyote cross the flat land against the blue night sky.

From the silence, Gerry says "I should mention i'm still with her, Kendal."

After a pause, "Kandal who?" the man says, still staring at the idle coyote. From his chair, all Gerry can see is the pale eye.

"Wonderful, it's just as good you've forgotten. I was worried she was the one you let slip away, thought maybe you'd be hurting over it."

"I don't envy your family Gerry. I don't envy your house, your wife, I'm glad she's not mine. I'm glad her children aren't mine, I'm free, in ways that wouldn't even occur to you."

"Well there you go," Gerry says, leaning a bit to spy the seeing eye. "I shouldn't have doubted you, looks as if you've got a fine life of your own here. A lady over just now, already, and you've been in town no less than a month!"

He smirks, turns to look at Gerry.

"Two. Two ladies."

"Two! You jest. You paying these girls? From across the tracks? I couldn't dare you to do that when we were boys."

"Don't matter, does it? Pussy is pussy is tight wet pussy," he whispers, sipping his beer, then leaning in.  "I put the two pussies together Gerry, stuck my red cock right between them."

Whispering back, raising an eyebrow, Gerry says "even with the lights on like this? you jest, not with your short pecker."

"Big enough for them, Gerry. You don't know what you're missing, you've been with the same old lady since we were kids, same old pussy."

"I'm sure I'm missing out."

"You are," he says, leaning in again. "You never stick yours in two girls mouths at the same time have you Gerry? Not two like these, too doped up to tell your cock from a candy-caine. You ever pound a fresh ass so hard they're screamin? They you almost broke em? Split her in half?  No, you've got a family, you've got a wife, you don't get to do the things i get to do.

"I'm happy you've found happiness."

"yes, yes I have Gerry. and you can't take this happiness away from me either. You listen, because there's nothing you can do will take this away, you just try. And I know you will Gerry," he's smiling bigger now, "but you can't. you can't. there's nothing left to take! Ha! Not like you took Kendal, not like you took my eye gerry."

"Well, you know, we were kids. not much i can say about that now."

"Right, just kids. So sweet, aren't they?"

"I did say i'm sorry."

"Never once Gerry, no you didn't. Unless you mean making mention of my binoculars, things like that. Otherwise, you never said sorry once, and it's too late now. We're settled now, no point in two old men saying sorries."

Gerry stands up, steps down the stairs, looks up at the little house. Says, "you enjoy yourself."

Sipping beer, his towel slipping off his pale leg. "I will. I do. I did."

"Maybe I visit you again."

"I believe you will, this time Gerry."

Gerry gets into his car, tosses his jacket into the back seat. Pulls back onto the main road, the black sky is densely freckled with stars.

Eventually he pulls up the gravel road of his big home on a hill in the woods. He reaches back and picks his jacket up off the twin child-seats in the back.

His wife is waiting at the top of the steps, lit orange from the kitchen windows. Her hands at her sides.

"Why isn't your phone on?"

Gerry approaches the bottom step, looking up at her in the light.

"You look beautiful my dear," he says, smiling.  "Pretty as the first day I…"

"Enough already, bring the girls in, it's late."

Gerry tilts his head, then looks back at the empty child seats in the car, then looks at his wife.

"I… didn't pick up the girls?"

"Well who picked them up then?"

Gerry turns, his breath held in his chest. He looks back out into the open road toward the country, the school, and the small shack now occupied by the sweaty angry man and his company.

"Oh wait, Gerry, grand-grand said he'd be getting them after school didn't he."

Gerry lets go of his breath, "right, thank you Kendal. You don't want to know where my head just went."

title: Revenge.

question: Summarize the history between Gerry and the blind man.

answer: Gerry and the blind man were friends in school. Gerry took the blind man's girlfriend and blinded him in one eye. The blind man is now back in town and has a new girlfriend.

critique: The blind man doesn't have a new girlfriend.

critique: The answer omits the fact that Gerry and the blind man are now older and have a chance to talk about their past.

critique: The answer omits the fact that Gerry never apologized for taking the blind man's girlfriend and blinding him.

critique: The second sentence is not relevant to the question.

critique: The response inaccurately mentions that the blind man has a new girlfriend, however it's the blind man who has two girlfriends.

critique: The story doesn't imply that the two were friends.

question: Summarize everything relating to family.

answer: The man is living in the house he was raised in, and he is alone. His parents are long dead. Gerry took the shy girl he loved in school and then blinded his eye, and he is angry because Gerry did not apologize. The man welcomes Gerry into his home, but his wife is back at the house. The man brags to Gerry about the two women he has sex with, with their permission. Gerry has a family, and the man says that nothing can take that happiness away from him.

critique: he says that nothing anyone could do would take that happiness away

critique: The man's wife is not mentioned in the story.

critique: The man does not brag about the two women, he says he stuck his red cock between them.

critique: The man does not brag about the two women he has sex with. That is Gerry.

critique: The answer doesn't mention the man's daughters.

question: Summarize everything relating to alcohol.

answer: Gerry says he went for a drink by the ball park. He says he went to a bar. They drink beer.

critique: The text doesn't say where Gerry was drinking, just that he was

critique: Gerry says he went for a drink by the ball park, not a bar.

critique: The response is missing the part where the man says he put the two pussies together.

critique: He says he went for a drink by the ball park, not to a bar.

critique: The response is missing the part where the man says he's glad Kendal's children aren't his because he's free to do things that Gerry can't do.

critique: The answer omits that the man drinks beer.

critique: The answer omits that the man and Gerry drink beer on the porch.

critique: He says he went for a drink at the bar, not by the ball park.

question: What does the story say about Gerry's response to the old man's revenge?

answer: No answer

critique: The response misses to mention that Gerry is not phased by the old man's revenge.

critique: The response misses to mention that Gerry is not affected by the old man's revenge.

critique: The question is asking for the response to the old man's revenge.

critique: The answer is empty and should be rewritten.


text:
Strange Encounters

"It's weird officer, real weird." Mark Henderson was at the local police station in Alberton, Ontario on 4: 36am August 8th, 1951. Strangely enough, a building he's never seen, in a town he's never been to before, yet familiar.

"All right smooth talker, let's take it from the top once more. I know there's not much to it as you've continued to repeat but let's see if anything else pops out at you and then we will pay for your gas home." Officer Dan Richardson was becoming more and more tired with the story was hearing.

There just can't be anyway. Dan thought becoming more and more enraged within. The moment he walks out of here I'm just going to throw this case out. Hocus pocus my ass, what does he take me for, an idiot?! At best this is the best damn way to get free gas.

"Well like I said before, I had just filled up at half past 10pm, so I could drive out and get to the place that sells tobacco by the pound still..."

Yes, yes we all go out to New Market for cheaper cigarettes, not relevant.

"...and I was driving out to Bakersfield like I said,"
He didn't refer to it as Bakersfield before? The puzzled Officer thought.

"...on the way there I had to swerved out of the way of a truck with these god forsaken bright lights. I guess I was a bit sleepy Officer and woke up in the nick of time but after that I found myself just driving around an unfamiliar road.

I was having awful headaches, for a bit around that time too. Images that started accompanying them are hard to distinguish but almost always included me in a white setting... I don't know it sounds crazy now. Anyways, I pulled over till they subsided and drove straight here in hopes that you could help me figure out where I am so I can get home, but I still can't remember where that was again. Some rest will cure this forgetfulness. I feel like I've been up all night." Mark felt like that was all the information that he could give, he couldn't remember what town he lived in nor his wife or his phone number. He kind of felt a helpless feeling fall over him.

"We'll now that you've told us where you were driving to we can call that regions station and see if there is a match to your name anywhere close to there. It should only take a few hours."

Not long after that another Office came into the room and asked if Officer Dan could speak with him for a moment.
What did the results turn up Frank?

"He wasn't lying when he said things were weird. It turns out that there isn't  even a Bakersfeild anywhere near here. In fact, you have to drive 14 hours north to get to a small town called Bakersfeild." Officer Frank said as he started to debrief.

"...here's where things get truly disturbing. When we searched his name through the local police department Mark has a missing person out because his wife...."

"Wow, his wife sure gets worried quickly. Seems a bit much don't you think he's only been gone for half a day at most. Can't remember his name or town he lives in, probably doesn't remember setting out on a road trip. Likely to get away from her if she's that crazy." Office Dan remarked crudely as if this was all an elaborate funny joke.

"If you'd let me finish, his wife reported him missing August 8th, 1950, sir. This was reported after she spent a full day returning home from a place that was 8 hours away from their town. She reported being in the passenger seat of a driverless car after being at a gas station for an unknown reason. All she could remember before waking up was that there was a blinding white light that she couldn't help but look at. It actually says 'forced' in the report." Frank said growing more and grimmer as he read from the file between his trembling hands.

Officer Dan, started to sit in the closest seat he could find. He couldn't believe that Mark was 14 hours away from home. That would make his whole time scale false. Not to mention the fact that he has been missing for a full year, a full year exactly he would later realize.

He began to think about the crazy aspects of them all, his wife's story at the time; driverless cars, being at a gas station for no reason, it all makes sense now, only after hearing Marks story.

"Sir there is one more thing in the reports." Frank said with a grave look in his eyes.

"What more could it be?"

"The wife had three cuts into her skin going the length of her back; she said that's the first appearance  of them in her life. It was like they were skillfully cut as the doctors said there was no way any doctor could stitch a cut that clean without some kind of pain. She reported none."

"All right Frank thanks for all the intel." Dan has a hard enough time giving gratitude in the first place and was finding it particularly challenging to give it with what he just learned.

The door opens to the interrogation; with it brought an energy that mimetic death. Officer Dan began relaying the frightening news to Mark, which still hasn't sunk in, himself.
"One last thing before we send you on your way home to your wife, if you will Mark. Your wife reported three cuts on her back that she had never seen before that night. Could you remove your shirt and pants please, I just want to know if we should have medical look at you first." Officer Dan asked Mark in the most genuine and sincere way he could.

"No problem Sir, it was starting to itch a bit anyways. It'll be nice to readjust it." Mark said in a cheerful way. For he sees this all as a blessing. Finally, he can see his wife and start the laughing process.

As Office Dan brought his coffee cup down from a big deep, delicious gulp, the liquid left his mouth as fast as it came in. in one fellow motion Office Dan vomited, dropped his cup, and tripped on his own two feet.

With his eyes wide open from shock; he gazed at a man whose skin, from head to toe, was scalped. Only his muscles were visible. Each and every muscle strand picked clean of its protective layer of skin. No blood was seeping through, it was as if there was its own invisible skin that covered him. Which is likely why he hasn't miraculously died.

As Mark turned around to confront a mirror, the last thing to pass through his mind was his beautiful wife; he pictured the way her soft cherry red hair flowed over her shoulders like a creek over an edge. Her rosy cheeks gently glowing in the sun. It was comforting to his mind to have such a lovely mental image cross it because once his  eyes focused on the mirror, his hideously deformed body sent his body into a trauma that it couldn't handle and  at  10:29PM August 8th Mark Henderson collapsed dead.

As for Dan Richardson, well he wishes that the story ended there.

title: [SF] Strange Encounters

question: Summarize the source of tension in the story.

answer: At the beginning of the story, a man named Mark shows up at the police station with nobody having any idea of where he came from or why he is there. He seems disoriented, but appears to hold on to his identity, at least at the beginning. As he tells his story, it's revealed that he stated getting lost three years earlier. It appears his wife was in the car with him at that time, as she reported a similar scenario, however, she was missing for a year.

critique: The answer is incorrect. Mark was missing for a year, not three years.

critique: It is omitted that when Officer Dan questions the man to remove his shirt and reveals that he is missing his skin. (And metal rods are instead what supports his muscles.)

critique: The response inaccurately mentions that Mark's wife was missing for three years, however it was only a year.

critique: The answer is incorrect. Mark's wife was not in the car with him three years ago. She was in the car with him the night he disappeared.

critique: This is incorrect. The woman was missing for a year and the story happened in 1951, not three years earlier.

critique: The story does not state that Mark stated getting lost three years earlier.

critique: The story does not state that Mark got lost three years earlier.

critique: The response inaccurately mentions that Mark stated getting lost three years earlier, however he was missing for a year.

text: The response should include the mysterious bodily mutilations to both Mark and his wife (this is the highest point of tension).


text:
In front of him, was a cave, not a cavern or a tunnel, it was a cave.
Inside this cave there wasn't much to see, some rocks, slimy walls and a little puddle in the middle.
He could make do with this...
He shouldered his tools and his assortment of wares and carried them inside, where he laid down a bear skin, to cover some of the ground before he got to work.
										***
Now I should explain who HE is, the fellow I am writing about is a dwarf, not very tall, heavily bearded and incredibly proficient with an axe and I don't mean a dainty little wood cutting axe either..
His name was Nort, Son of none, He was found left in the middle of an Orc stronghold where they took pity on the child and raised him as best they could.
Now you might think Orcs to be horrible creatures of death and violence, but that is only true to a certain extent, yes they love a good sword fight or bare knuckle brawl, but they are also musicians, great smiths and steadfast workers and the young Dwarven child grew up with all these influences.
										***
Nort had no father so to speak, the Orc Chief was as close as he got and that wasn't bad; but there were no shortage of maternal figures in the stronghold.
There was Grishna who taught the boy to cook and how to hold down his ale, and Bari who showed him how to smith great weapons or dainty trinkets and his "Mother" was the chief's wife, V'ara
she taught him how to conquer his fears, how to write, read and speak, and how to make his way in the world.

Now this stronghold wasn't exactly reachable by many traders, so the boy had little knowledge of the outside, sometimes a traveler would come and seek lodging for a night
and the boy would be treated to stories of excitement and danger, these are Nort's favorite stories..
										***
Nort knew he wasn't an Orc, he was many things but he wasn't an idiot, And he didn't care about who he was; it was all about who he was going to be.
He was going to become a master smith in a great city, creating weapons and masterpieces everyday, and Bari knew he could do so...
On his 18th finding day, that's what they called his birthday considering they didn't know when it actually was, He asked the Chief if he could leave the stronghold to set out on his own, many other orcs had done the same and he didn't expect to stay there forever and the chief knew it too, "My son" boomed the Chief. "You have proven skilled in your craft and I am proud of you, I know that your wish is to leave, and I shall grant that wish, just know that you are always welcome here and you will forever be kin to the Orcs".
To which the Chief pulled out a box from his table and passed it to him, "Inside is two things, First a bag of gold and silver for your travels and second is an amulet smithed by my Grandfather many moons ago, He gave it to my father when he fell in love with a Human girl, my mother, so that she would be accepted by the Orcs wherever she went and would always have protection from them.
Now I give it to you, so that you may always find family with Orc kind". And with those words spoken, the great gates were hauled open and Nort was on his way into the world, with a small pony and a pack full of supplies.
										***
Nort heaved his pack and pulled his pony into the cave; out of the snow and wind outside before settling down to make a fire inside a circle of stones he had collected.
He got his tinder and he found a good piece of flint which he struck with his knife to make a spark and suddenly there was flame, good, warm flame!
He'd had enough of travelling through that piercing wind and freezing snow, he needed his feet warmed and his belly full.
The only thing now was the belly filling, what did he have left? Some nuts and berries, vegetation he'd scrounged from the wilderness and a small piece of beaver meat that he'd caught by the water's edge
"Stew it is" Mumbled Nort as he hung a pot above the fire and filled it with snow to make water, before throwing in the greens and the nuts, he decided the pony could have the berries so he held his hand put towards the mare, "here you go girl, eat up".
Next he chopped the beaver into chunks and tossed it into the pot, before adding a little salt from a pouch around his neck, and it was done, he had a meal for tonight, but he'd need more tomorrow...
The wind was picking up, but the vines he'd pulled down across the entrance were doing a good job of keeping the snow out so he scraped the fire to the back of the cave and gave it more fuel before curling up in his cloak and going to sleep.

What do you think? I got bored and decided to write a little...

title: A story I've started writing, any thoughts?

question: What does the story say about Orcs?

answer: The text refers to Orcs as a combined creature of madness, death and violence, they are great storytellers, musicians, and craftsmen. They are friendlier than people believe. The narrator of the story, a dwarf, grew up within an Orc tribe. They are more educated and civilized than they are typically depicted to be.

critique: The response includes extraneous information not useful for the task.

critique: This is inaccurate. The text does not say this at all. Rather, it says that there aren't any typical depictions of Orcs. The first part of this sentence can be removed.

critique: The story does not refer to Orcs as a combined creature of madness, death, and violence. The response should be re-written.

critique: The response contains inaccurate information.

question: What does the story say about Elves?

answer: No answer

critique: The answer should mention that the story does not mention Elves.

critique: The response misses to mention that the story does not mention anything about Elves.

question: What does the story say about the narrator?

answer: The narrator is a dwarf who was raised by Orcs. He was found in the middle of an Orc stronghold and taken in by the Orcs. The narrator was raised by the Orcs and taught how to cook, how to smith, and how to conquer his fears. He was also taught how to read, write, and speak. The narrator was also taught how to make his way in the world. He was taught by the Orc Chief's wife, V'ara. The narrator was also taught how to craft weapons and masterpieces. The narrator asked the Chief if he could leave the Orc stronghold to set out on his own. The Chief granted the narrator's wish and gave him a bag of gold and silver and an amulet. The amulet was given to the narrator by the Chief's Grandfather so that the narrator would always have protection from the Orcs.

text: The answer inaccurately mentions that the amulet was given to the narrator by the Chief's grandfather. It was actually given to the Chief by his grandfather and then passed onto the narrator.

category: accuracy

question: Summarize the setting of the story.

answer: The story takes place inside a cave, the cavern is not a tunnel. The main character is a dwarf who was raised by Orcs, who like to fight in battles, fight in sword and bare knuckle fights, but they also love to sing and make great food.

critique: The response is missing the part about the cave.

critique: The second sentence does not add to the answer unless it is edited for coherence sake.

critique: The setting is not described in the input.

critique: The response contains inaccurate information.

question: Summarize the narrator's travels.

answer: No answer

critique: The answer should mention that the narrator is a dwarf.


text:
I wrote this about one of my good friends, and he finds it to be humorous too.
I didn't use his real name in the story for obvious reasons.
This is also located on r/Writing
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
It's been apart of me since... Well, ever since I was old enough to understand what masturbation was, and now it was gone. I first understood what masturbation was and how to do it by the time I was seven. Then by the time I was eight I had already managed to obtain at least five Brazzers accounts along with a subscription to Playboy. That is when it really took off – my addiction to porn. Masturbation was almost synonymous with pornography for me.

At first I only masturbated  at night time when no one could hear me. However, by the time I was ten years old I was already watching porn and masturbating twice a day – once in the morning, and once at night. Pornography had consumed my life, driving away the few friends I had. I had never even told anyone; we were ten years old they would have shunned me. Maybe it was the way I looked at my female teachers and fellow classmates, or how it always look as if I had a tiny pencil sticking out of my pants? By the time I was fifteen I masturbated between 5 and 10 times a day. My penis was purple by the time I got out of school, but I still went on to masturbate two more times before I went to bed.

Once I got to high-school, I couldn't control my self. There was so much ass everywhere I had to masturbate during school. It was simple how I pulled it off; we had eight minutes in between classes, and it took  two minutes to go to my locker then make it to my next class in time. That meant I had an extra six minutes to rub one off before I went to my next class. No one still ever wanted to talk to me – probably because I was constantly sweating, and my hands were sticky.

Then it happened – I got caught watching porn. It was a relatively normal day; I had just got home and I had just turned on my computer so I could fap once more. Once powered on, I opened up Google Chrome in Incognito mode any proceeded to navigate to Brazzers and login. Normally I would have just clicked a video and started going to town, but there was something wrong. There was a strange feeling in the air, so, I just waited a little while before starting. Growing impatient, I just went ahead and clicked a video and starting going to town. Then right as soon as I started to climax, my muscles starting to spasm, and my starting to moan the actress' name of whom I was watching. When suddenly my mom walked in. In that instant it hit me, I forgot to lock my door, but I had done it so many time how could I just 'forget'? In the heat of the moment, I asked my mother if “She wanted to join”. I was instantly disgusted; how could I ask my mom that? “Turn that fucking shit off and put your pants back on! Your father will speak with you when he gets home!” she replied, as she closed the door with a disheartening look on her face.

I knew what was going to happen – I was going to get grounded. Dad was going to come home and yell at me then take my computer and Playboys. My whole world would collapse without pornography. After coming to this heart breaking realization I rubbed one off one last time; then walked into my bathroom grabbed a bottle of Clorox chugged it, then hung myself.

title: [Cross-Post] The Nathan Moore Chronicles - Problem with Pornography (Humor)

question: Summarize the role of the narrator's friends in the story.

answer: No answer

critique: The story asks that their role be summarized. This is a request that means that the narrator has a large social circle.

question: Summarize the twist in the story.

answer: The narrator is caught masturbating by his mother. He is so ashamed that he kills himself.

critique: The twist is that the narrator's mom doesn't ground him or take away his pornography.

critique: The twist is not the reason the narrator is caught masturbating, but that the narrator is caught masturbating

critique: The narrator is not ashamed, he is just desperate.

critique: The narrator kills himself because he is ashamed of masturbating in front of his mother.

critique: The narrator is not ashamed of masturbating.

critique: The narrator is not ashamed of masturbating. He is ashamed of being caught masturbating.

question: Summarize the emotions the narrator goes through in the story.

answer: The narrator first feels shame when they are caught masturbating before they attempt suicide. This is likely because they never told anyone about their addiction, and now they have been caught, it is humiliating. The narrator doesn't feel any joy or positive emotion before or during the suicide. They are so afraid of the future and what their parents will say that they end their life.

critique: The narrator is not afraid of the future.

critique: The narrator is not afraid of the future, but of the consequences of their actions.

critique: The narrator is not afraid of his parents' reaction.

critique: The narrator's suicide is not a positive emotion.

critique: The narrator doesn't feel shame before they attempt suicide.

critique: The narrator doesn't feel any shame when they are caught masturbating. They feel shame when they ask their mom if she wants to join them.

critique: The narrator isn't caught masturbating twice in the story. This is one that is incorrect.

critique: "This is likely because they never told anyone about their addiction, and now they have been caught, it is humiliating. The narrator doesn't feel any joy or positive emotion before or during the suicide. They are so afraid of the future and what their parents will say that they end their life." - this is incorrect. The narrator is not ashamed of masturbating because he didn't tell anyone. He was afraid of getting caught.


text:
My name is Gil Perez, and for the sake of my sanity I make this journal. If creation has not completely inverted itself, twisted itself into some unrecognizable form from which God hath turned his back on in disgust, it should be the 25th of October, 1593. Even if that knowledge is sound it still gets me nowhere, for all I know I’ve descended into hell and very soon all the outlandish hominoids surrounding me will morph into even fouler satanic beasts than they already are and throw me on a spit to roast for dinner. Maybe this is the treatment I’ve earned myself; perhaps God hath already cast his judgment on me, taken me before my day had even begun, and this is the form for which my eternal punishment takes; a blistering inferno of strange sounds, sights, and smells; of demons dressed as men and women, appearing at a glance to be kin, my brothers and sisters, but once in focus turning into something foreign, unknown, as if they were from another time or place altogether.

I must not dwell on these things, fear is beginning to overtake me; God would not cast out such a faithful servant before he had even lived to see the day, before his time had truly come. This must be the work of a demon; Beelzebub himself had a hand in this I’m sure of it. What has befallen me I wary explain; words fail to describe the absurdity of what I see unfolding before my eyes every passing second. All is wrong, all is different, nothing is as it should be; I know not how to explain this.

My name, as I’ve already stated, is Gil Perez; I am a Spanish soldier and a member of the Filipino Guardia Civil, the national constabulary of the great and ever-expanding Spanish nation. Not but a few minutes ago I was on guard duty at the governor’s palace in Manila acting as a sentry to keep order on the grounds. It had been a rough few days, especially with the Governor Don Gomez Perez Dasmarinas’ assassination only a few days before; the heresy took everyone by surprise, and to demonstrate solidarity and dissuade any other traitorous Chinese pirates from disturbing the palace grounds again all guards were required to work through the night on the 23rd and a good chunk into the 24th; until a new governor was named, no one could go home. After this I was truly exhausted, more so than I have ever been since I joined the guard many a year ago, and so, in the lull of the early morning and with the knowledge of the no doubt busy day of patrol to come, I decided to lean back against one of the outer walls of the palace and rest my bones for but a few moments, wholly intending to wake back to full awareness in no more than a minute or two. Well, to put it bluntly, I awoke much quicker than I expected, to an environment not at all the one I had taken rest from. I don’t know what drove me to open my eyes so soon, I knew I had time enough to lounge for but a few moments in light of working through the night, but after several seconds with my eye closed something changed. I noticed something…different; almost like the realization of a fly on my back or a tick crawling up my leg. But it was more than this, something far stranger, something I would never expect to experience in this life or the next. As if reality skipped a beat, existence stuttered for a second, just a second, almost imperceptibly so, but just enough for me to hear. I was loafing about at the time of the event so the sounds around me were not particularly distinct, but the change in sound, the sudden switch from one background uproar to the next, jarred me to awareness and I opened my eyes to a different world. In that moment, I either died and was sent to where the Holy Father judged me deserving, or Beelzebub, in a rare surge of worldly influence, grabbed me by the collar and whisked me away to some other part of creation; I assume as a demon he does whatever is in his power to do that he believes will shake and undermine the faithful. Shake, he did; undermine, he did not.

In coming to terms with this occurrence I realize this place I’ve ended up, by some divine joke as it seems, is not heaven or hell. I’m actually still within the Spanish Empire if I’m correct; judging by the suits of the guard I’ve seen walk by and the architecture of the surrounding buildings I believe I’m standing in proximity to the Plaza Mayor, the courtyard of the Mexican capital building in Mexico City. This, though still obviously quite startling, is a great relief; I truly thought my life had simply ceased, that my essence had simply been extinguished and that I was destined to wander aimlessly about a nonsensical landscape full of equally nonsensical and unnerving figures as a spirit among the land of the dead for the rest of eternity.

In any case, my momentary reprieve from reality it seems is coming to an end. Almost as soon as I arrived I was approached by a Mexican guard asking me what I was doing here and why I was dressed the way I was. I told him of my livelihood and my station, to which he promptly retorted in exactly the way I would expect any rational individual to react when told a tale such as mine, going from the middle of the Philippines all the way across the Atlantic Ocean and into the dead center of Mexico City in what seemed an instant. Strange though, upon further questioning not only the nature of my being here but also the time in which I’m here seems off, for the guard responded to my recounting of the date in the same sharp tone he expressed his disbelief of my point of origin, informing me it was only the 23rd of October. This it appears he has deemed enough to take me in for more intensive questioning, on suspicion of engaging in sorcery or being possessed no doubt, as he and a posse of 5 other men are now patrolling a little more ardently the grounds I previously occupied. After several minutes of rudimentary questioning when I first appeared the guard went on his way, unconvinced as he was, and I, suffering still from the shock of God’s divine hand or Satan’s devious scepter, wandered off to a small alley between buildings adjacent to the plaza, in hopes of gathering my thoughts and grasping hold of my sanity before it slipped away unto the abyss. This I achieved, but I doubt I have any recourse but to cooperate with my North American compatriots and allow myself to go through they’re investigative process at this point. I know no one in this land; no one will vouch for me here. My story is not very convincing in any case; more the stock of fairy tales than anything else. I will simply relinquish myself unto God once again and trust in his divine plan; for through his power or some derivation of it I was brought here, and through his power again must I go.

The guards come for me now; may all who find this tattered piece of paper trust in its words and know them not to be false. All I have said is recounted from memory and emotion alone, nothing more. May God bless you and keep you my friends.

-GP

title: Caught In a Cosmic Burp

question: Summarize the narrator's actionable options regarding the assassination.

answer: No answer

critique: The passage does not mention any actionable options regarding the assassination.

critique: The question is asking for a summary of the narrator's options regarding the assassination.

question: What does the story say about angels?

answer: No answer

critique: The answer could mention that the narrator is not sure if his experience was a divine miracle or a demonic one.

critique: The passage does not mention anything about angels.

critique: The story does not mention anything about angels.


text:
_'Edmund (or EDMOND) Meyrick_' (or MEYRICKE) (1636 – 24 April 1713) was a Welsh cleric and benefactor of Jesus College, Oxford, where scholarships are still awarded in his name. He is a member of the Meyrick family.

Life

Meyrick was born at Garthlwyd, Llandderfel (near Bala, Merionethshire) and christened in Llandderfel on 11 June 1636. He attended four schools, including one year at Ruthin School, before matriculating at Jesus College, Oxford in 1656. He was elected to a scholarship in 1658 and obtained his BA degree in 1659.[1] He was ordained both deacon and priest by Robert Skinner, Bishop of Oxford, on 30 August 1660 in the chapel of New College, Oxford.[2] In 1662, he was elected to a probationary Fellowship of the college, but married in 1663 and became ineligible for a full fellowship. He became vicar of Eynsham on 10 August 1663.[3] He was chaplain to Richard, Earl of Carbery — the Meyricks and the Carberys being related – and this connection led to Meyrick's appointment to a number of lucrative positions in West Wales.[4] Meyrick became vicar of Llangathen in 1665, vicar of Llanegwad and a Canon of St David's Cathedral in 1667, rector of Burton, Pembrokeshire in 1670, treasurer of St David's in 1690 and rector of Penboyr in 1713. He was also a canon of Christ College, Brecon and vicar of Carmarthen; he held many of these positions at the same time. He died in Carmarthen, where he was then living, on 24 April 1713, and was buried in St Peter's Church; a memorial to him was placed on the north wall of the chancel.[5]

Bequests

Meyrick's wife and only child had predeceased him, enabling a more generous disposition of his assets.[6] He had extensive property interests, in both North and South Wales. The family seat was in Ucheldre, Gwyddelwern, Merionethshire and Meyrick also owned several houses in Carmarthen.[7] In 1708, he set up a charity school in Carmarthen but for some reason directed in his will that the school and master should be moved to Bala, where it became the Bala Grammar School.[8] The will provided for an annual payment of £15 to the schoolmaster together with the use of the schoolhouse, and £15 per year for clothing for the students.[9]

His will, dated 25 March 1712, said: He left family property in Denbighshire and Merionethshire, as well as his Carmarthen property after expiration of some life interests, to the college to provide six scholarships of £10 and six exhibitions of £8. The scholarships and exhibitions were to be awarded to Jesus College students from North Wales, until they obtained their Master of Arts degree or were receiving more than £40 per year from a parish appointment. Any surplus was to be used to buy advowsons so that the College might present one of the scholars (or in default of a suitable scholar, a Meyrick exhibitioner or a North Wales fellow of the College) to a parish position.[10] Whilst the estate produced a surplus, only one living was purchased by the trustees, that of the rectory of Llandow in 1735. Further increases in the surplus led to an increase in payments to Bala School and to the scholars and exhibitioners, and to the purchase of other property in Cheltenham and Carmarthen.[11][12] This proved to be a profitable investment since, by 1840, the college had received more than £10,000 through the sale of trust land near Cheltenham for railway purposes. Payments to Bala School ended in 1862, when the annual payments were commuted for a lump-sum payment of £5,333.[13]

Meyrick scholarships and exhibitions are still awarded to students at Jesus College, based on academic merit. Students performing consistently at a first-class standard during the year in the opinion of their tutors may be awarded a Meyrick scholarship, with consistent performance at upper second to first-class standard potentially leading to the award of a Meyrick exhibition.[14] The restriction in Meyrick's bequest that the scholarships were for students from North Wales only was relaxed in 1857 to cover students from all of Wales and Monmouthshire.[15][16] The restrictions have been further relaxed and students who were not born in Wales are also now eligible for a Meyrick scholarship or exhibition if they are the child of a native of Wales, are able to speak Welsh or they were educated for the last three years of secondary school in Wales.[17]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

[13] Baker, p. 62

[14]

[15]

[16] Hardy, p. 197

[17]

title: Edmund Meyrick

question: Describe Meyrick's relationship to Wales.

answer: He appears to have had strong ties to Wales. He attended schools there, was a clergyman there, and owned a house there.

critique: He is buried in Wales, which may be more indicative of the strength of the relationship to Wales.

critique: It is omitted that he was also a member of the Meyrick family.

critique: "He appears to have had strong ties to Wales" is not a very specific answer to the question. It would be better to rewrite the answer completely.

critique: Meyrick had extensive property interests in North and South Wales.

critique: He also held several positions in West Wales.

critique: The response misses to mention that he was also a benefactor of Jesus College, Oxford, where scholarships are still awarded in his name.

critique: It would help if it is stated that Meyrick was a clergyman based in West Wales.

critique: It should be pointed out that his most lucrative connections were in West Wales, not all of Wales

critique: Meyrick also received many lucrative positions in West Wales.

critique: He also seems to have had an extensive property portfolio in Wales.

critique: This is an accurate fact, but it does not show the extent of Meyrick's relationship to Wales.

critique: Meyrick was a clergyman in Wales, but the answer should mention that he was also a benefactor of Jesus College, Oxford.

critique: The response misses to mention that Meyrick was a Welsh cleric and benefactor of Jesus College, Oxford, where scholarships are still awarded in his name.

question: When did Meyrick live?

answer: 1636 to 1713

critique: The answer could be phrased as a complete sentence.

critique: The answer should give the dates in a proper format.

critique: He died in 1713, but this doesn't mean that he was born in 1636.

critique: The answer should be written in a full sentence.

critique: Include the month and year of Meyrick's death in the answer.

critique: It is omitted that he was born in 1636 and died in 1713.


text:
[In WWII this banner was the banner of the North Caucasian Legion, which was created on the basis of the Caucasian-Mohammedan Legion (as well as the Mountain-Caucasian and Azerbaijanian Legions)]

The CAUCASIAN-MOHAMMEDAN LEGION (German: _Kaukasisch-Mohammedanische Legion_) was a volunteer unit of the German Army. The Legion was created on January 13, 1942[1] by order of General Infantria Olbricht. The unit was composed of Muslim Northern Caucasians and Azerbaijanians. In accordance with the decree of February 19, 1942, volunteers from the peoples of the North Caucasus were August 2, 1942 allocated on a national-territorial basis separately to the North Caucasian Legion / Mountain-Caucasian Legion. The initial placement of the Legion was Wesel.

History

[] [The swastika of mythological so-called “Horse Parking”. According to N. Napso, a similar symbol was depicted on the uniform of the soldiers of the Mountain-Caucasian legion.]

In October 1941, one for each of the Turkestan and Caucasian prisoners of war (the operation of the Abwehr “Tiger B”) was created for the special purposes of Abwehr and controlled by the Stab Walli (in June of 1941, it consisted of 21 Abwehr commandos, at least 70 Abwehrgroups and many sabotage-intelligence schools) and subordinated to the two officers of the Abwehr, Major Andreas Meier Mader and Theodor Oberländer. Professor Oberleutnant Oberländer was the Head of the Department of Social Sciences department in Königsberg, Greifswald and Prague before the war. Oberleutnant Oberländer was also the political leader of the Nachtigall Battalion.

CAUCASIAN-MOHAMMEDAN LEGION was created on 13 January 1942 by order of General Olbricht, commander of the reserve army. For this purpose, a German training headquarters was established, headed by Major Andreas Meier Mader. He was assigned the task of replenishing the 7 companies of the respective nationalities created by prisoners of war before that. Suitable prisoners of war were to be checked, released from captivity, and after a short trial period, dressed in German uniform. On the basis of the Mayer-Mader union, it was allowed to form the Caucasian-Mohammedan and Turkestan legions. On the 19 February, the chief of armaments and the commander of the reserve army ordered the Caucasian-Mohammedan and Turkestan legions were separated. On 2 August 1942, the representatives of the Caucasian peoples were consolidated into a separate North Caucasian legion. The Legion consisted of Abkhazians, Circassians, Kabardians, Balkars, Karachais, Chechens, Ingushes, and the peoples of Daghestan. The Kurds, Talyshs and North Ossetians appeared later.

In 1943 the headquarters of the North Caucasian Legion was created in the town of Mirgorod of Poltava region under command of Lt. Col. Ristov. In the summer of 1944, the formation of the North Caucasian and Caucasian SS regiments began on the basis of 70 and 71 police battalions. At the end of the war in Northern Italy, the North Caucasian combat group joined the Caucasian Unity of the SS troops. The commander of the Standard Army of the SS, a former officer of the White Army Kuchuk Ulagay, joined the regiment as a regiment.

In addition to the reinforced 9 field battalions,1 battalion of the _Sonderverband “Bergmann”_ (Special Unit “Miner”) of the and one combat group of the Caucasian Waffen-SS unit, the natives of the North Caucasus were part of a separate Sonderkommando Schamil consisting of three groups of forces up to a platoon, three sapper, railway and road-building companies, as well as two serf regiments. According to the researcher Traho R. “The total number of North Caucasian volunteers since the beginning of the war against the USSR and until 1945 amounted to 28-30 thousand people”.

[1]

title: Kaukasisch-Mohammedanische Legion

question: What does the article say about the Caucasian-Mohammedan Legion?

answer: The Caucasian-Mohammedan Legion was a volunteer unit of the German Army. It was created on January 13, 1942 by order of General Infantria Olbricht. The unit was composed of Muslim Northern Caucasians and Azerbaijanians. In 1943 the headquarters of the North Caucasian Legion was created in the town of Mirgorod of Poltava region under command of Lt. Col. Ristov. In the summer of 1944, the formation of the North Caucasian and Caucasian SS regiments began on the basis of 70 and 71 police battalions. At the end of the war in Northern Italy, the North Caucasian combat group joined the Caucasian Unity of the SS troops.

critique: The answer does not mention the purpose of the Legion.

critique: don't know what 'by order of General Infantria Olbricht' means

critique: The answer should mention that the legion was initially a volunteer unit.

critique: The answer should mention the Legion's initial placement.

critique: "the formation of the North Caucasian and Caucasian SS regiments" is inaccurate; the formation of the North Caucasian and Caucasian SS regiments was when they joined in 1944


text:
The man answered me hoarsely, a queer smile playing across the corner of his cracked lips, "It is said that when the gods wish to punish us... they answer our prayers."

His face, a map of scars, was strangely familiar, like a distant place long forgotten.

"Speak not in riddles old man," I snarled, "You will make your peace with to whomever gods you pray well soon enough. Until then, you answer to Me, and pray, pray now, my vengeance is kinder than theirs."

His sunken eyes shone dimly, and bore no fear. "Then I truly hope my debt to them is paid," he laughed, wistful.

"Tell me, what did you wish of them, Barabbas? What shining stone did you cheat from the Wardens' lot? What coveted prize did you squander on stolen time? What dungeon's claim did you lay away on halcyon roads? Was it Love? Riches? Power? Tell me. Tell me before I send you back to the hell from whence you came, wretched man."

"I sought something. I think... I sought knowledge. Understanding."

"Then you are a fool, old one. Tell me, out of perversion, what did you learn, living out your wasted days? What carnival spectacles did the wilds divulge, as you wandered far and away? What secrets did the amber halls and dim-lit alleys whisper to prowling ears? What shrouded facts sought their way through dead tomes, spilling torrid wanderlust into grey matter? Was it Techne? Logos? Pathos? Teach me. Teach me, before I snuff out your pathetic spark."

He took a deep breath and exhaled, a visible shudder traveling through his frail skeleton. I saw his eyes glimmer distantly. I saw him strain, the furrows of his brow crossed in wrought exertion. I watched his frail hand reach across the distance between us, stretching as if to grasp something unfathomable and then, a solitary tear fell onto the cold ground.

"I cannot... I can no longer remember. I am old and my mind is not what it once was."

He closed a pair of weary eyes and hung a tired head, anguish painted across his worn features.

"Once a fool, always a fool, I can see," I spat, seizing his slacking jaw, and peering into cloudy eyes, a visage of sorrow. "Tell me your story. Show me your sins. Show me your joys and regrets, your dreams and sorrows. Show me it all, the last thing you do before these damned eyes are shut forevermore. SHOW ME!"

Silence. Grimacing, he forced his eyes shut, face a contortion of singular will, summoning every scrap of concentration he could gather.

Time stood still.

Then, suddenly, his eyes sprang open and the clouds parted within revealing a sudden inner light, a clear and piercing gaze. His brow lifted, his focus sharpened and a sudden strength found itself within him, wresting my hand away.

Hands astir, he gripped my hands, arms, and face frantically, some terrible recognition dawning over him. Clasping my head with his palms, he suddenly collapsed onto the ground, drained.

"Speak, you despicable thing! Tell me your name! Speak, damn you!" I growled, anxious to hear his last words. Crouching, I knelt beside his haggard frame.

He spoke, after a time, eyes aglow with perception. His words were slow and deliberate. This is what he told me.

"You... I remember my wish. I wished to know an old man’s secret, once. My name is... but, ah! that, you know already. Let me teach you what I have learned. Let me show you, eager one.”

And he smiled, a wry smile, breathing his last.

As he closed his eyes, I opened mine to curse him, but he was gone, and I awoke lying alone, cursing only myself.

title: The Wish

question: What does the story say about the narrator's conversation with the old man?

answer: The old man told the narrator that when the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers. The narrator was angry with the old man and wanted to know what he wished from the gods. The old man answered him and said that he wanted knowledge and understanding. However, the narrator wasn't satisfied with his answer because the old man couldn't remember what he learned in the end.

critique: The old man told the narrator that when the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers. The narrator was angry with the old man and wanted to know what he wished from the gods. The old man answered him and said that he wanted knowledge and understanding. The narrator was angry and wanted to know what the old man learned. The old man couldn't remember what he learned in the end.

critique: The old man did not answer the narrator's question about what he learned. He said that he could not remember.

critique: The narrator's anger is not relevant to the question.

critique: It's omitted that the narrator wanted to know the old man's secret.

critique: The old man's replies to the narrator are said in riddles, and the narrator is not satisfied with his answers but the story does not mention what the narrator wanted the old man to do. Remove 'However, the narrator wasn't satisfied with his answer because the old man couldn't remember what he learned in the end'

critique: The narrator wasn't satisfied with the old man's answer because he couldn't remember what he learned.

critique: "knowledge" - replace with "knowledge and understanding"

question: What does the story say about how the narrator and the old man met?

answer: No answer

critique: The answer should mention the old man's cryptic answer.

critique: The information is available in the passage.


text:
Mark Hand married Mary Marks, beget Job Hand, and was haunted by the financial meekness of his youth. Mark's father, Les Hand, possessed less fiscal solvency than a pack of deer, the herd having at least one buck. Young Mark swore he would not always live so meagerly and that when he grew up he would be an adept business man. In fact, one could argue that only once did he ever fail at a business endeavor.

A newly unteened and wed Mark bought at a great discount a large section of land in southeastern Pennsylvania from his dad's brother which had been his uncle's legume farm. So that is to say Mark bought his relative's peanuts for relative peanuts. Shortly after this acquisition the Pennsylvania state government came around wishing to buy the land with a more than generous offer. Mark devised a clever strategy where in he would sell them the land save one acre, the land his house was on. He drew up the legal document and the government unwittingly signed it. When state officials realized what had happened he offered to sell them both plots, the acre of land and the now trademarked scheme they had fallen for, at a laughably unreasonable sum. They declined opting to teach Mark a lesson instead. The government proceeded with their plans and built their facility that would encapsulate the Hand homestead. And this is how it came to pass that Job Hand was born inside a high-security prison.

Job was born at this house on a Monday. He should have been born on a Sunday, but his mother, a very religious woman, refused to labor on the Sabbath. Job would spend the first 18 years of his life on that one acre of land comparable to a manslaughter rap without release for good behavior. Job though was a very well-behaved kid. This was owing to the caring, teaching, and ministering from his Bible thumping mother. Mary Hand instilled in her son the belief in a vengeful God. She told and retold the stories of God's wrath. The fear of God would be strong in Job.

Often Job would find himself staring past the beautiful white picket fence as well as the electrified chain-linked fence into the yard of the prison. The things he saw would make him grow to fear equally the punishments of man as well as the wrath of God.

Three days after his 18th birthday he left the walls of the prison for the first time. He was leaving for college. He left the state pen for Penn State, heading up state from "up state". The new environment would cause Job much anxiety. He worried constantly of the morality and legality of his every action. He would spend an entire night hoping that he had exited the crosswalk completely before the red "stop" hand had appeared. He only ventured from his dormitory for class and for books from the library. His roommate tried to loosen up the intense Job, but to little if not no avail. He would comment to his friends that Job had a virtually inaudible chortle almost as if he was afraid that God would hear him laughing.

Job studied theology as his mother wished. She hoped her son would become a fire and brimstone preacher. He also studied business as his father sternly advised. His father wanting his son's bank account not to be like a male kangaroo's toilet that is to say containing jack shit. Oh, how the Hand family loved their animal analogies.

Despite Job's anxiety, his studies moved along quite swimmingly and was well on his way to fulfilling his parents' wishes for him. That is until his last semester before graduation. A professor would open his eyes to a new idea: forgiveness.

It was Father John who entreated his students to remember that not one of us is perfect and the corollary that we would all make mistakes. He taught that God allowed into his fold those who had sinned yet asked for forgiveness. This wasn't a radically new idea to Job he had read it in the Bible, but he had never heard it preached by an authority figure who possessed a scientifically provable corporeal body. Job would become quite smitten with this new God that did more than just smiting. Job became more relaxed. The intensity of his fears diminished. He felt free. He began to take this new found freedom out onto the campus. He began convorting with his fellow matriculaters. Drinking and sex would enter his life. For this is how freedom manifests itself on college campuses. Eventually, Job would become free of all fear. Where freedom once caused Job so much anxiety it was now an addicting adrenaline rush. Drinking and drugs enhanced that feeling. It was under these stimulants that Job would hurt one of his fellow students. Not mortally, but severe enough for Job's freedom to be taken away from him.
He was sentenced to 18 months and would be sent back to his old state pen. Not all the way back within the walls of his childhood home, but confined nevertheless by the concrete walls of the prison.

At first Job thought he was being punished by a vengeful God, enraged that Job had lost the true way that he walked during his youth. He would come to fear God again. He got down on his knees and was ready to renew his fearful life when a thought came to him. Would it matter if I did this if God was just a vengeful God? If He was only this would not His back always be turned to me? For I did forsake Him. Even though I have sinned and done evil the fact that I am still here is proof that God still wants me to do good. This means that God must be a loving and forgiving God. Maybe, it is not that I should fear Him and fear making mistakes. Fear even the freedom I have to do so. Maybe, it is that I am to be responsible and accountable for my actions. That is what I was sent here to learn. Something so very simple yet hard. For Job, fear and self pity were so much easier than freedom and responsibility.

Job was released and walked for the second time out the gates of prison. His incarceration over, but his conviction just beginning. He had learned in 18 months what he hadn't in 18 years. He took with him his remodeled desire to do good and his new found responsibility, and lived a very good life indeed.

title: State Pen

question: How did Job's perception of God change through the story?

answer: He started off as a very religious child who was taught to fear God. He was taught that God was vengeful and wrathful. When he was released from prison, he realized that God was not vengeful and wrathful, but loving and forgiving.

critique: The answer should mention that Job's perception of God changed when he was in prison.

critique: It's omitted that God is also a vengeful and wrathful being.

critique: The answer should mention that Job's perception of God changed when he learned about forgiveness.

critique: It is omitted that Job begins to be free from his fears and starts to disobey God, ultimately losing his freedom to be free, but learning that it was a good thing.


text:
*articles contain affiliate links*

Nurses and stethoscopes go together like peas and carrots. Since every nurse is unique, and there are only so many styles of stethoscopes available, it’s easy to understand why many nurses want to jazz them up with unique and interesting STETHOSCOPE ACCESSORIES or stethoscope covers.

[17 Stethoscope Accessories Nurse Will Love]

Since most hospitals have very strict uniform policies, with solid colored scrubs, there isn’t often much room for self-expression. Something small and unique, like a badge reel, can give you a little something to express yourself while still abiding all your employer’s policies. Plus, if you work as a float nurse, traveler, or another area of nursing where you’re not always with the same group, you want to make super sure that your stethoscope is easily identifiable.

These stethoscope accessories are perfect for gifting, or just updating your own work wardrobe. As nurses, we all use the same tools every day depending on our specialty. That is why I like to show my personality and my creativity in the accessories I choose to bling-up my stethoscope. Etsy is truly full of adorable accessories that will let you upgrade the looks of your stethoscope and here are my favorite picks!

Stethoscope ID Ring

[Stethoscope ID Ring]

This Stethoscope ID Ring is a beautiful custom addition to add to your daily wear stethoscope. Not only does it add a bit of bling, but it also personalizes it, so everyone knows it belongs to you.

CharMed Stethoscope Bling Charms[stethoscope charms]

CharMed offer a variety of stethoscope charms that you can customize for your personal interests. We really like these blinged monogram charms. You can get 2 or 3 to spell out your initials so it’s super clear that it belongs to you when it decides to walk off on its own.

Stethoscope Wrap Cover

[Stethoscope Wrap]

Covering a plain stethoscope is easy with this Stethoscope Wrap Cover! These stethoscope wrap covers are available in multiple colors and styles.

Red Cat Stethoscope Sleeve from JennyWrensGifts

[Red Cat Stethoscope Sleeve]

For the nurse that loves cats, this is a super cute idea! This Red Cat Stethoscope Sleeve is an adorable idea.

Nurse Organizer Purse

[Nurse Organizer Purse]

This cute purse is a great choice for a busy nurse to keep everything handy. The Nurse Organizer Purse can be customized with preferred colors and designs. You can put your stethoscope, pens, tape, and anything else you need handy.

_You Might Also Like: Where to Buy Engraved Stethoscopes_

Laser Engraved Giraffe Print Stethoscope ID Tag from TrinketsByLisaT

[Laser Engraved Giraffe Print Stethoscope ID Tag]

This is such a fun stethoscope accessory and is personalized! The Laser Engraved Giraffe Print Stethoscope ID Tag is made truly beautiful by the use of Swarovski Crystals.

Personalized Medical Heart Nurse Name Tag from DestinationLtd

[Personalized Medical Heart Nurse Name Tag]
This Personalized Medical Heart Nurse Name Tag is an adorable blinged out addition to their stethoscope! A great accessory for nurses to gift to your favorite nurse this year!

Superman Stethoscope ID Tag from CuckooBoo

[Superman Stethoscope ID]

This Superman Stethoscope ID Tag is a great choice. I especially like it because the comic book character really speaks to the nerd in me.

Stethoscope Bag from BERGERBAGS

[Stethoscope Bag]

Everyone needs a bag to keep their tools for work in. This Stethoscope Bag for nurses is a great handy bag to toss you tools in!

Custom Resin Photo Stethoscope ID Tag

[Custom Resin Photo Stethoscope ID Tag]

Every nurse has someone special they think of throughout the day. This Custom Resin Photo Stethoscope ID Tag is a nice choice to carry those people a little closer to your heart every day while you work.

Stethoscope Flower ID Tag

[Stethoscope Flower ID Tag]

I love this beautiful Stethoscope Flower ID Tag as a great addition to any nurse’s stethoscope. Beautiful and classic, it reflects the heart of the nurse that wears it.

Stethoscope Charm Personalized ID Tag

[Stethoscope Charm Personalized ID Tag]

This Stethoscope Charm Personalized ID Tag is a great gift choice. They’ll think of you every time they take a blood pressure or auscultate for bowel sounds (in all four quadrants, of course).

Nurse Tool Belt Bag from ipopippo

[Nurse Tool Belt Bag]

This Nurse Tool Belt Bag is a fun way for any nurse to keep all of her tools together in a cute way. You’ll have everything you need in one convenient container.

Nurse Purse Medical Case from LoveAmarie

[Nurse Purse Medical Case]

The Nurse Purse Medical Case comes in a multitude of colors and designs so you can choose multiples to match your personality, the season or your scrubs!

Lotus Stethoscope Holder from NurseBorn

[Lotus Stethoscope Holder]

Carrying your stethoscope can be a real pain in the neck. It’s not good to keep in there. Every nurse needs a place to keep their stethoscope. Most go around you neck, but this Lotus Stethoscope Holder is a great choice for holding your stethoscope on your bag, waist or lab coat.

Stethoscope Earrings

[Stethoscope Earrings]

These Stethoscope Earrings are a super cute accessory to add to your daily wardrobe! While not for your stethoscope, it’s a great stethoscope accessory almost every nurse will love to have! (We even think some of the guys would dig these… maybe.)

Stethoscope Charm

[Stethoscope Charm]

There are multiple choices in colors and styles with this simple beaded Stethoscope Charm that goes easily on any stethoscope!

While this list is by no means complete, I hope it gave you some interesting ideas of ways to spice up your nursing routine, or perhaps the routine of a nurse in your life.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE STETHOSCOPE ACCESSORY?

If you’re looking for more great gifts for nurses consider checking out the following:

-   22 Personalized Gifts For Nurses
-   20 Cute and Original Gifts for Nurses
-   Great Gift Ideas for Nurses, Nursing Students, and Nursing Instructors
-   5 Nurse Gifts You Can Afford to Buy for the Whole Shift
-   3 Awesome Nurse Valentine Gift Ideas

 DOWNLOAD FREE NURSE GIFT TAGS

[nurse gift tags]

Sign up for updates & get FREE nurse gift tags instantly.

Your privacy is protected. We will never spam you.

DOWNLOAD NURSE BINGO TODAY!

[nurse gift tags]

Liven up any shift with a fun game of bingo. See who can fill a row first!
Fill a whole card and lose grip with reality.

Your privacy is protected. We will never spam you.

question: What is the purpose of a charm?

answer: To personalize a stethoscope.

critique: Most importantly, the response does not give details about what makes a charm different from any other accessory to a stethoscope. Since many types of charms and accessories can be used to help personalize a stethoscope, a teacher is better off giving students the motivation, with a case in mind.

critique: The answer could be phrased as a complete sentence.

critique: The answer should be more specific about what the charm is.

critique: The answer misses to mention that charms are a great way to personalize a stethoscope.

critique: The answer should clarify that the charm is a stethoscope accessory.

question: Summarize the reasons a nurse would want to personalize her stethoscope.

answer: The author talks about how nurses often want to express themselves, so they would want to jazz up their stethoscopes. Since every nurse is unique, and there are only so many styles of stethoscopes available, they would want to jazz up the stethoscopes. There are a variety of accessories that nurses can personalize their stethoscopes with, and they all have one thing in common, they are there to express the individuality of the nurse.

critique: The last two sentences are oddly written.

critique: The answer should be in the first person.

text: ", they would want to jazz up the stethoscopes. There are a variety of accessories that nurses can personalize their stethoscopes with, and they all have one thing in common, they are there to express the individuality of the nurse." - this is irrelevant and should be removed.

category: coherence

question: Summarize the relationship between nurses and stethoscopes.

answer: According to this text, all nurses go together like peas and carrots. Nurses use unique stethoscope accessories to express themselves in their work attires. A lot of patients are worked with on a daily basis, which is why being able to personalize their stethoscopes so that they can be easily identifiable is quite handy.

critique: Remove the first sentence, it's not relevant to the question.

critique: The answer should mention that the article is about stethoscope accessories.

critique: The answer is confusing and overly wordy.

critique: The text doesn't explicitly say that patients are worked with on a daily basis, but it is implied

question: Summarize the gifts in this article that are not meant to be used with a stethoscope.

answer: There are a number of accessories for a stethoscope in the article, but there are many that are not stethoscope related, such as: a purse, a personalized name tag, a belt bag, and a case.

critique: The mention of an ID ring and earrings do not count as accessories for a stethoscope.

critique: The answer should mention the gifts that are not stethoscope related.

critique: It is omitted that there are also earrings and a charm.