Rain, the young man is thinking. Of course it would be raining. Not a heavy, cleansing rain that leaves the streets steaming and the neatly sculptured yards lush and fragrant. This is a gray drizzling rain. A rain that makes him think of places like England and Scotland as they appear in those disturbing late night films on cable, the ones in black and white that weren't particularly memorable when they were made and are even less so now. Still, it rains and the air is cool. All he has to shelter him is a think nylon jacket. The jacket is soaked. It feels both chilly and coarse against his skin. His hair hangs in flat and sodden wings, falling into his eyes. It's long in the back, almost to his shoulders, and he thinks that the cars that pass him on the street, the occupants of those cars, might look at him and see only that he is wet and not that he is dirty as well. Can they tell that his hair has been unwashed for days? That his clothes are the same ones he's worn for more than a week? It doesn't matter. He's invisible to them as soon as they pass, taking any assumptions they might make with them. They might just mistake him for one of those hoity-toity college kids, one of those clean limbed and beaming have's who has happened to find himself caught out without his umbrella. He makes a desultory attempt to straighten his shoulders, to lift his eyes from the buckled sidewalk. To look like he might have a purpose or a destination. It doesn't help. He has become the day. He has internalized the environment. He did that years ago, in fact. That's all I can do. Not his words, of course, but he understands them. He is intimately acquainted with his limitations. Question: The young man wondered what other people might think of him: Options: - before he got drenched in rain - not enough information - before he went to college - when he is already drenched in rain === The correct answer is
when he is already drenched in rain

(Question)
I have been a teacher for many years and so many of my students have done nice things for me..they are just nice people. I retired last year and was a substitute teacher this last school year. In June a teacher I had just subbed for a half day needed emergency surgery and I was asked to go in and finish her year. Good thing it was in an area I knewEnglish and Social at the grade 9 level. The kids were pretty goodsome were a handful but most of them were very accommodating. They were also writing important provincial exams at the end of the year and were getting stressed out about it. As I was getting them ready to write their exam, I took a few moments to thank them for welcoming me into their classroom and making my jobwhile not easy.at least a rewarding experience. One boy who seemed to complain about everything.thanked me for taking ownership and preparing them for final exams. I had recognized that his argumentative nature was his way of dealing with stress and tried not to let it affect my teaching. That mostly worked. There was a time when I told him, quite loudly, that if he had spent his time getting ready to do assignments instead of arguinghe could have been finished days ago. He just nodded his head and got to work. It was a nice gesture that he was able to thank me for doing my job.that he recognized that some things were out of his control and to just get on with it. A life lesson that I am still learning, by the way. Every day lately, I have had something nice happen to me with my students. I am feeling blessed. Question: How old was the student? Options: - not enough information - The student was twelve years old. - The student was thirteen years old. - The student was a teenager. === The correct answer is
(Answer)
not enough information

Ques: Shortly after five, the hospital called. More precisely, the emergency room phoned to ask if Ray had a bed. Ray pretended to consult his admission log, just as he always did. The nightly hospital call meant one of three things: the chemical dependency floor was full (highly unlikely), the individual in question had fallen under the hospital's "one treatment episode every three months" sanction (also known as the Black List, and only moderately unlikely), or the prospective client had no insurance (in Ray's experience, very likely). The folks at the hospital knew, as did Ray, that federal law prohibited him from turning away individuals requesting detoxification services if he had an open bed. The hospital was generous enough to spring for a cab voucher for the intoxicate. In Ray's experience as well, overnight admissions were less interested in detox than in free food, a free bed and complimentary meds. For his two hour paperwork investment and aggravation, he would receive the benefit of knowing the client slept until noon then slipped out the side door and into another binge. Any bills for service generated for the brief stay would return in a week or so stamped "No Such Address" or simply "Return to Sender". On average, the clients of addictions services managed to muster a raging 25% of them who would ever pay a dime toward their bill. The night shift admission payment percentages were a quarter of that quarter in good years. Thus, the frequent calls from the hospital. They had little better luck in getting good addresses (or even with those, a client who stayed sober long enough to give a shit). No one relished treating the uninsured and uninsurable. It was fiscal suicide. The hospital was perfectly willing to let the local experts in deadbeats handle the workload. Tonight, Ray could tell them no. He liked telling them no, especially when it was the truth. Question: Shortly after five: Options: - someone sneked out the door - the emergency room called - not enough information - a cab arrived === The correct answer is
Ans: the emergency room called

Ques: One time I was walking my puppy (profile pic) who was then around 5 months, with my mum and grandma. By the time we were about to reach our house, we spot two dogs, a German Shepherd and a Husky, both male, on the other side of the street sniffing around with no owner in sight. I was ready to hightail out of there with my dog, but I knew if I ran they would chase, so we formed a wall in front of her to hide her. Of course she decides to stick out her head and start barking. Those two dogs whipped their heads so fast and came running towards us to see her. Since she is a puppy she has zero impulse control and starts throwing herself at them, at their backs, face, plus the fact that she doesn't like being sniffed at her rear (which they are trying very hard to get to). Here I am nervously sweet talking to them, my voice trembling saying good boys. My grandma is her despair grabs the GS's neck, and his hair bristled and growled for a second before turning back to our pup. At this point my baby girl is sitting down with her tail tucked close, ears flattened, and head down. I thought "Dear Lord someone's losing a limb today." When suddenly this car comes pulling up and this man comes out with a leash, the owner. He practically had to wrestle the GS into the car. A woman in a pickup truck comes next trying to get the husky but he ran away again, but my mom didn't care, she scooped up our pup and ran, the leash trailing behind her, and even my grandma who has troubles in her knees speed walked. My mom would later laugh at me because I became so pale and because I tried to baby talk a dog to leave us alone. Question: Who started barking at the German Shepherd and Husky? Options: - His puppy - His Labrador Dog - not enough information - His chihuahua dog === The correct answer is
Ans:
His puppy