Read the given story and classify it as 'imagined', 'recalled', or 'retold'. If a story is imagined, the person who wrote the story is making it up, pretending they experienced it. If a story is recalled, the person who wrote the story really experienced it and is recalling it from memory. If a story is retold, it is a real memory like the 'recalled' stories, but written down much later after previously writing a 'recalled' story about the same events. So, recalled stories and retold stories will be fairly similar, in that they both were real experiences for the writer. Imagined stories have a more linear flow and contain more commonsense knowledge, whereas recalled stories are less connected and contain more specific concrete events. Additionally, higher levels of self reference are found in imagined stories. Between recalled and retold stories, retold stories flow significantly more linearly than recalled stories, and retold stories are significantly higher in scores for cognitive processes and positive tone.

Ex Input:
Recently I have tried to begin an aerobic exercise routine. It's hard to find a time to fit this into my schedule, but I settled on 7:30 PM in my apartment. I do various exercises, but one of the main ones is running in place. I should mention that before I describe the surprising event, I had not exercised in about three days for various reasons. Anyway, on a Monday morning I was working at home when the doorbell rang. This was very strange, since no one visits my apartment at this time, and I had no deliveries. So got up and looked through the peephole to see three old ladies standing outside. I didn't know what to think of this, so I opened my door curiously. The tallest of the old ladies stood in the middle and explained that she lives in the apartment below me, and she's concerned about the jumping around at about 8:00 because it shakes her ceiling. Someone else said that the three of them were friends, and they were going out for a walk, and would go to Kenya soon (not sure why that was mentioned). They said the floors were thin (I had thought they were solid--the floors of my previous apartment were very thin,) and everything in her apartment shakes, so I should exercise in the gym. I said sure, sorry about that, etc. I didn't mention how they slam the doors in the apartment below me after I've gone to bed, but it sounds like her complaint was bigger than mine. So now I'm trying to redesign my exercise routine without any jumping or running. I might have to actually go to the gym, though I don't really feel like it.

Ex Output:
recalled


Ex Input:
I can't believe that I was published in a literary magazine for my poetry. I had been following this journal for a while. One day, I noticed that they had open submissions for poets. It was mentioned that only a select few entries would be chosen for the next publication. Very close to my birthday, I found out I was chosen! What's more is that this was the first time that I had ever submitted any of my work for review. I couldn't believe that I was chosen for publishing without any previous portfolio. I was one of thirty, out of hundreds of submissions. It was amazing enough that they thought my work was worthy, but I later found out that all my friends did, as well! In the form of a surprise tea party, my friends decided to gather and congratulate me for my first published work. I couldn't believe it! They rented a beachhouse, and decorated it all pink. Pink is my favorite color of course! They had also purchased all sorts of teas and baked goods. The party was perfect. I felt so accomplished. Most importantly, I felt so loved.

Ex Output:
retold


Ex Input:
I almost killed someone last month. I was on the phone, helping a patient, and also filling prescriptions as fast as I could. The pharmacist in charge (PIC) was picking her nose while telling me to go faster, faster, faster. I felt so angry that she wouldn't even pick up the phone and put someone on hold while us techs were working at such dangerous paces. And then it happened. A customer asked me to count their pills again so they knew they were receiving the right amount. I understood why, we were visibly overworked and understaffed, but was also very irritated at having yet another task added to my plate. I grabbed the vial, dumped it out, and then my blood ran cold. The PIC stopped digging in her nose and looked down at the same time I did--she lead by micromanaging us right down to how many times a day we urinated, and she started whisper yelling at me. There was a very dangerous drug mixed in with the blood pressure pills. How it happened, who initially put the wrong drug in the wrong bottle, who verified it at the final check, it didn't matter. This was not a failure of the multi-step process or the team in her eyes. No, the fault was mine and mine alone. My bladder was strained, my feet hurt, and I could not safely multitask another day. I went home and thought about it, obsessed over it, dreamed about it. I showed up for work the next day and worried over every patient. I worried that the other techs were not able to work safely either, that the other pharmacists were so worried about whether patients were coming in for vaccinations to meet a goal that I was actually going to kill someone next time. I worried that someone was sitting down to take the wrong medicine right that moment and there was nothing I could do. The next day was my day off and I felt dread, crippling dread. And then I woke up at 3 in the morning and realized I didn't have to go in the next day. I didn't have to go back ever again. So without warning, without thought I quit. Just like that. My family is broke but I didn't kill someone that day.

Ex Output:

recalled