Thanks for the A2A Josh: Tough one to reduce to just a single incident but I'll try. I grew up in North Central Indiana, about 50 miles south of South Bend. It was common to have frequent snow accumulation in the winter and blustery, freezing temps. It seems like this was particularly true during my childhood in the 70's and 80's. My family was blue collar through and through. We lived in the heartland in a town of just a few hundred with a sawmill and an on again off again gas station as our only two businesses. My dad worked in a factory for roughly 45 years. He apparently started that job right out of high school. My mom was an incredibly hard worker and Still is to this day. She did factory work, restaurant management and everything in between. It was this Protestant work ethic that led to one of the frequent tasks that my brother and I had to do which was not fun but ultimately was a very good deed. As I said, winters were often snowy and harsh. So my mom would make my brother and me shovel driveways and sidewalks for a couple of elderly residents. We did this of course, after we did our own driveway. Some people had motorized snowblowers but we did not. Standard snow shovels were our tools. I remember us whining about the chore, wishing we could just play in the snow or get out of it altogether. I don't remember being overly conscious of the relief this provided for our elderly neighbors. I just remember that Mom would be disappointed if we didn't do a good job. Later in life I would have great appreciation for the things required of me by my parents. Factory work and summer farm jobs helped us learn the value of hard work and would set us on a road to appreciation of future job opportunities that were less taxing. I still remember hating shoveling snow. But I'm forever grateful that I did it. Question: What did his dad do for a living? Options: A. worked in a factory B. not enough information C. worked in a restaurant D. worked in a school === The correct answer is
A

(Question)
I think that one of the people who caused me the most misery for the longest was someone that I'll call "Luna". So, most people have probably met that person that acts all suicidal and then uses that against you. For example, you're talking to someone like that and you're having some sort of argument and the moment they realize they aren't winning they send you pictures of their bloodied wrists and say "This is your fault". Well, that person was my friend for a long time. Every time I would try to leave her to go to sleep she would threaten to do "something bad" and I knew what she meant, and me, first meeting her when I was around 9 or 10, and I was still extremely naive. So most of the time, I ended up staying awake til 3 AM on school nights and I would get only a few hours of sleep, and she'd be happy because her life wasn't worsened at all. But I think the thing that made me the most miserable, was the fact that it never got better. No matter how much I talked to her, or how sympathetic I tried to be, or how much I tried to convince her to be happier, it never got better. She still acted super depressed, but like it was a joke. All of these things combined to make me completely miserable because it seemed like it was all for nothing. But I just let it happen, because she was the only person I had and she was really my only "friend" at that point, and all the way up to seventh grade. So for that entire period of time, she certainly wasn't the only source of misery for me, but she made me feel way worse than I would have if I hadn't been friends with her. Question: Who continued to say she'd do something bad for some time after the story ends? Options: A. the writer B. not enough information C. the writer's friend D. the writer's mom === The correct answer is
(Answer)
B

Ques: Six weeks after arriving in the United States, Hassan Abduraheem takes a seat in the back pew of Tar Wallet Baptist Church. Tucked into the woods along a country road in rural Virginia, the church holds about 50 worshippers. On this cold November Sunday, Abduraheem and his family of eight noticeably increase the congregation's size. They do their best to follow the unfamiliar English of the old Baptist hymns, which are very familiar to their new neighbors. And they share the hymns from their former home Sudan. Standing in a single line in front of the altar, the family fills the church with Arabic song. "Unbelievable," Abduraheem says repeatedly, as he describes his journey from a crowded prison cell in Sudan to a fixed-up house on the farm of his new pastor. "Unbelievable" seems like the only word that could describe the turn his life took, thanks to a Facebook post and a U.S. congressman. Abduraheem's work as a former pastor is not outlawed in his native Sudan, but Christians are a minority in a diverse country that has suffered through multiple civil wars. According to the United States Commission on International Religious Freedom, there has been "an escalation in the Sudanese government's persecution of Christians," since the 2011 secession of South Sudan. Abduraheem says his work was spreading the gospel; the Sudanese government accused him of espionage, and he was detained along with two other pastors in December 2015. "The first day when they took us to the prison, they beat us," he says softly. Abduraheem was shifted from prison to prison. For five months, he wore the same clothes he was wearing when he was arrested. His eyes became damaged from the harsh prison light. Yet, despite constant interrogations, just two meals of beans a day and a tiny cell with barely enough room to sleep, he says the worst part of prison was not knowing. Question: How did Abduraheem probably feel when he was in prison? Options: A. Calm B. Careless C. not enough information D. Scared === The correct answer is
Ans: D

I once went out to have fun with a friend of a different nationality, and she wanted to go to a place that featured the music of her culture. Since I have always been interested in other cultures, I was happy to go along. While we were sitting at a table together, an older man came up and asked to buy me a drink. I told him "no thank you, I do not drink". My arm was laying on top of the booth because I was sitting sideways since my big old pregnant belly would not fit under the table. He reached over and took my hand and said " Come dance with me then". I again told him I was not interested in dancing. He began to squeeze my hand and insisting I get up and dance with him. I kept telling him no, and pointing to my belly and saying I would not be dancing with anyone. He just kept squeezing my hand harder and trying to pull me out of the booth. I got angry when I felt something break in my hand and screamed at him "Get your effing hands off me!" The bar owner came over to see what the problem was. I explained that "this jerk just hurt my hand because I would not drink or dance with him!" The owner looked at me crying, and the man laughing, and kicked my friend and I out of the place! Seems the rude SOB was his best friend. I got a bad taste for places of that culture (although I do love the cuisine) and a broken bone in my left hand for my trouble. She and I never went out again because she was so embarrassed about what the guy did to me, but she did take me to the ER on the way home. Question: Who engaged in conversation in a booth at the bar? Options: A. not enough information B. the pregnant woman and the rude man C. the pregnant woman and the bar owner D. the pregnant woman and her friend === The correct answer is
B