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Quiz by Nelcy Carreño
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âWhere in Central America is English an official language?
in Costa Rica
in Panama
in Belize
in Nicaragua
âWhere in South America is English an official language?
in French Guiana
in Brazil
in Suriname
in Guyana
Where in Central America is English an official language?
Where in South America is English an official language?
Apart from Mexico, where in North America is English NOT an official language?
Where in Europe is English an official language?
Where in Africa is English an official language?
Where in Oceania is English NOT spoken by the majority of the population?
Where in The Caribbean is English NOT an official language?
Where in Asia is English an official language?
They will build a new hospital next year. A. A new hospital will be built next year by them. B. A new hospital will build next year by them. C. A new hospital is built next year by them. D. A new hospital was built next year by them. The teacher explained the lesson carefully. A. The lesson was explained carefully by the teacher. B. The lesson is explained carefully by the teacher. C. The lesson was explaining carefully by the teacher. D. The lesson explained carefully by the teacher. People speak English all over the world. A. English is spoken all over the world. B. English speaks all over the world. C. English was spoken all over the world. D. English has been spoken all over the world. She is writing a letter now. A. A letter is being written now by her. B. A letter was being written now by her. C. A letter is written now by her. D. A letter has been written now by her. They have just finished the project. A. The project has just been finished by them. B. The project was just finished by them. C. The project has just finished by them. D. The project will just be finished by them. Somebody cleans the room every day. A. The room is cleaned every day. B. The room cleans every day. C. The room was cleaned every day. D. The room is cleaning every day. The students are going to hold a meeting tomorrow. A. A meeting is going to be held tomorrow by the students. B. A meeting is going to be holding tomorrow by the students. C. A meeting was going to be held tomorrow by the students. D. A meeting is held tomorrow by the students. They had repaired the car before I came. A. The car had been repaired before I came. B. The car was repaired before I came. C. The car is repaired before I came. D. The car had repaired before I came. The government has launched a new campaign. A. A new campaign has been launched by the government. B. A new campaign was launched by the government. C. A new campaign is launched by the government. D. A new campaign has launched by the government. The chef will prepare the meal. A. The meal will be prepared by the chef. B. The meal is prepared by the chef. C. The meal was prepared by the chef. D. The meal has been prepared by the chef.Being Bilingual Introduction. What language do you speak? Do you speak one language or more than one? People who speak two languages are bilingual. French and English. My name is Andre. I live in Quebec, Canada. I speak two languages. I speak French and English. My teachers use French and English in many classes, such as reading and social studies. Spanish and English. My name is Manuel. I live in New York. I am Hispanic, and I speak two languages. I speak Spanish and English. My grandparents moved to New York City from Spain. My grandfather taught me to sing Spanish songs and play guitar. Cherokee and English My name is Waya, and I am Cherokee. Waya means "wolf" in the Cherokee language. I speak two languages. I speak Cherokee and English. The Cherokees are a Native American tribe. At home, my family uses special keyboards. We can write in English and in Cherokee. Navajo and English My name is Doli, and I am Navajo. Doli means "bluebird" in Navajo. I speak two languages. I speak English and Navajo. My grandfather used the Navajo language to keep U.S. secrets safe during World War II. Nahuatl and Spanish My name is Nelli. Nelli means "truth" in Nahuatl, the language of the Aztecs. I speak two languages. I speak Nahuatl and Spanish. Chocolate was first made by the Aztecs in Mexico. Chocolate is a Nahuatl word. Guarani and Spanish My name is Itati. I live in Paraguay. Itati means "white stone" in Guarani. I speak two languages. I speak Guarani and Spanish. Guarani is a Native American language. It is spoken by most of the people of Paraguay. Over seven million people in the world speak Guarani. Quechua and Spanish My name is Inti, which means "sun" in Quechua. I speak two languages. I speak Quechua and Spanish. Quechua is the language the Incas spoke. My mother, grandmother, and I speak Quechua as we weave. Conclusion We speak two languages. We are bilingual! Are you bilingual? Being bilingual makes you close to two worlds.Linguistic composition Language patterns in Southeast Asia are highly complex and are rooted in four major language families: Sino-Tibetan, Tai, Austro-Asiatic, and Austronesian (Malayo-Polynesian). Languages derived from the Sino-Tibetan group are found largely in Myanmar, while forms of the Tai group are spoken in Thailand and Laos. Austro-Asiatic languages are spoken in Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam. The languages of Malaysia, Indonesia, and the Philippines are rooted in an Austronesian and Polynesian stock. Despite this broad generalization, it must be noted that innumerable separate languages as well as dialects are used in the region. This linguistic diversity is especially conspicuous in fragmented areas such as the Philippines and Indonesia and in highland and remote areas on the mainland, and it has been a retarding factor in national integration and development. Notable in this regard is Myanmar. Dominant languages do exist in most of the nations. Burmese and Thai are spoken by large groups of people in Myanmar and Thailand, respectively. Similarly, Khmer is the primary language in Cambodia, as is Vietnamese in Vietnam. Within the Philippines, Pilipino (Filipino) and English are the official languages, but Tagalog and Visayan also are important. Malay and Indonesian are, respectively, the official languages of Malaysia and Indonesia; these languages are quite similar and are mutually intelligible. Indonesian is a good example of a true national language and is spoken widely across the archipelago. Thus, unlike in Myanmar, language actually has been a unifying element in the country. Numerous languages also have been introduced into the region by immigrant populations. Perhaps most significant are the variety of dialects spoken by the Chinese communities in many Southeast Asian countries. The most commonly used are Cantonese, Hokkien, Hakka, and Teochew, reflecting the southern Chinese coastal origins of many of the immigrants. The largest concentration of Chinese speakers is in Singapore, where they constitute the majority population. Concentrations of ethnic Chinese also live in most of the larger urban areas of the region. Indian immigrants also are numerous and are associated with the economic development of several Southeast Asian nations. Their role as labourers on the rubber plantations of Malaysia is well known, and Tamil and Hindi speakers form significant minorities in the country. Indian communities also are scattered throughout the region and are especially conspicuous in Singapore and Myanmar.Naturalism- A term often used as a synonym for realism; also a view of experience that is generally characterized as bleak and pessimistic; characters within this type of work often struggle unsuccessfully to exercise free will. Non Sequitur- A statement or idea that fails to follow logically from the one before Novel of Manners- A novel focusing on and describing the social customs and habits of a particular social group Novella- A work of fiction of roughly 20,000 to 50,000 words-longer than a short story, but shorter than a novel Ode -A lyric poem usually marked by serious, respectful, and exalted feelings toward the subject Old English- The Anglo-Saxon language spoken in what is now English from approximately 450 to 1150 A.D. Omniscient Narrator- A narrator with an unlimited awareness, understanding, and insight of characters, setting, background, and all other elements of the story Ottava Rima- An eight-line rhyming stanza of a poem Myth- An imaginary story that has become an accepted a part of the cultural or religious tradition of a group or society; often used to explain natural phenomena. Narrative - A form of verse or prose that tells a story1.Linguistics is the science that studies language. 2.Linguist:Someone who studies linguistics. 3.The Subfields of Linguistics Phonetics deals with the sounds of language. Phonology deals with how the sounds are organized. Morphology deals with how sounds are put together to form words. Syntax deals with how sentences are formed. Semantics deals with the meaning of words, sentences, and texts. Pragmatics deals with how sentences and texts are used in the world (i.e., in context) Text Linguistics deals with units larger than sentences, such as paragraphs and texts. 4.Prescriptive: This approach consists basically of stating what is considered right and wrong in language. 5.Descriptive: This approach, on the other hand, consists of describing the facts. Descriptive linguistics is dedicated to describing the rules of the language, and the language is seen as essentially rule governed. 6.Language is rule-governed, creative, universal, innate, and learned, all at the same time. 7.Linguists understand language as a system of arbitrary vocal signs. 8.Linguistic signs: involve sequences of sounds which represent concrete objects and events as well as abstractions.Signs may be related to the things they represent in a number of ways. 9.Iconic: which resemble the things they represent (as do, for example, photographs, diagrams, star charts, or chemical models). 10.Indexical: which point to or have a necessary connection with the things they represent (as do, for example, smoke to fire, a weathercock to the direction of the wind, a symptom to an illness, a smile to happiness, or a frown to anger). 11.Describe the characteristics of human language: Creative: (The structural elements of human language can be combined to produce new utterances, which neither the speaker nor his hearers may ever have made or heard before.) Rule-governed: (Language is made of rules.) Universal: (There are some aspects that are present in all languages of the world.) Innate:(all humans possess an innate capacity for language, activated in infancy by minimal environmental stimuli. Chomsky) Uniquely human: (Language is what sets us apart from other species. It is what makes us human.) Learned:(Children acquire language from their natural setting.) 12.Differentiate between iconic, indexical and symbolic signs. A. iconic, which resemble the things they represent (as do, for example, photographs, diagrams, star charts, or chemical models) B. indexical, which point to or have a necessary connection with the things they represent (as do, for example, smoke to fire, a weathercock to the direction of the wind, a symptom to an illness, a smile to happiness, or a frown to anger). c. symbolic, which are only conventionally related to the thing they represent (as do, for example, a flag to a nation, a rose to love, a wedding ring to marriage). 12. Distinguish between different senses of the grammar word. The prescriptivistÂŽs grammar (Grammar is a set of rules that label the different utterances as either right or wrong.) The descriptivistÂŽs grammar (Grammar is a set of rules that govern the langauge spoken by people. ) The linguistÂŽs grammar (Grammar is the subconscious knowledge of the set of rules that enables speakers to use the language) The speakerÂŽs grammar (Grammar is the intrinsic linguistic knowledge within a native speaker) 13.Describe common fallacies about language and grammar: âșOne type of grammar is simpler than another. âșChanges in grammar involve deterioration in a language âșGrammars should be logical and analogical (that is, regular) âșPeople must be taught the grammatical rules of their language. âșOnly some languages have grammar. âșGrammars differ from each other in unpredictable ways. 14.Generality: All Languages Have a Grammar 15. Equality: All Grammars Are Equal 16.Changeability: Grammars Change Over Time 17. Universality: Grammars Are Alike in Basic Ways 18.Tacitness: Grammatical Knowledge Is Subconscious 19.Linguistics is defined as the study of language systems. It is the scientific study of language. 20.Historical approach:It is the study of language change. 21.Linguistic Competence: is the unconscious knowledge speakers of a language have about the system that enables them to create and understand novel utterances. 22.Performance: is the use of it. Performance is âthe actual use of language in concrete situations.â 23.I-Language (internal language): which is the intrinsic linguistic knowledge within a native speaker. 24.E-Language (external language): which is the observable languageâthe output from a speaker. 25.Parole ('speech') refers to the concrete instances of the use of langue, including texts which provide the ordinary research material for linguistics. 26.Langue: 27.Language: is a system of communication that is non-stereotyped and non-finite; it is unlimited in its scope. 28.Grammar: to refer to a subconscious linguistic system of a particular type. Grammar makes possible the production and comprehension of a potentially unlimited number of utterances. 29.Communication and animals: Selecting a mode of communication (speech,writing, gesture). Delivering the symbols through a medium, a physical basis for communication, light, air, or ink. Decoding of the symbols to obtain the information. 30.SIGNS: Communication relies on using something to stand for something else. Words are an obvious example of this: You do not have to have a car, a sandwich, or your cousin present in order to talk about themâthe words car, sandwich, and cousin stand for them instead. This same phenomenon is found in animal communication as well. 31.The signifier: A signifier is that part of a sign that stimulates at least one sense organ of the receiver of a message.A signifier can also be a picture, a photograph, a sign language gesture, or one of the many other words for tree in different languages. 32.The signified: The signified component of the sign refers to both the real world object it represents and its conceptual content. The first of these is the real world content of the sign, its extension or referent within a system of signs such as English, avian communication, or sign language. 33.Iconic signs or icons: always bear some resemblance to their referent. A photograph is an iconic sign; so too is a stylized silhouette of a female or a male on a restroom door. 34.Some iconic tokens: a. open-mouth threat by a Japanese macaque; b. park recreation signs; c. onomatopoeic words in English. 35.An indexical sign, or index, fulfils its function by pointing out its referent, typically by being a partial or representative sample of it. Indexes are not arbitrary, since their presence has in some sense been caused by their referent. For this reason it is sometimes said that there is a causal link between an indexical sign and its referent.The track of an animal, for example, points to the existence of the animal by representing a part of it. The presence of smoke is an index of fire. 36.Symbolic signs: bear an arbitrary relationship to their referents and in this way are distinct from both icons and indexes. Human language is highly symbolic in that the vast majority of its signs bear no inherent resemblance or causal connection to their referents, as the following words show. 37.Mixed signs Signs: are not always exclusively of one type or another. Symptomatic signs, for example, may have iconic properties, as when a dog opens its mouth in a threat to bite. Symbolic signs such as traffic lights are symptomatic in that they reflect the internal state of the mechanism that causes them to change color. 38.Signals: All signs can act as signals when they trigger a specific action on the part of the receiver, as do traffic lights, words in human language such as the race starter's "Go!", or the warning calls of birds. 39.SIGN STRUCTURE: No matter what their type, signs show different kinds of structure. A basic distinction is made between graded and discrete sign structure. 40.Graded signs convey their meaning by changes in degree. A good example of a gradation in communication is voice volume. The more you want to be heard, the louder you speak along an increasing scale of loudness. There are no steps or jumps from one level to the next that can be associated with a specific change in meaning. 41.Discrete signs are distinguished from each other by categorical (stepwise) differences. There is no gradual transition from one sign to the next. The words of human language are good examples of discrete signs. 42.A VIEW OF ANIMAL COMMUNICATION âșLargely iconic âșLargely symptomatic âșLittle arbitrary âșNot deliberate âșNot conscious âșNot symbolic âșStimulus boundGr''ade 3 Questions based on this chapter: English Alexander was a king of the ancient Greek kingdom of Macedonia. By the age of thirty, he had created one of the largest empires in the world, stretching from Greece to northwestern India. When Alexander was young, a trader brought a horse which was difficult to mount. Let us read about how Alexander tames the horse. One day King Philip bought a fine horse. He was a strong animal and the king paid a high price for him. But he was wild and no man could mount him, or do anything at all with him. This horse is really wild. It cannot be tamed by the royal men. Many have tried and failed. We tried everything possible, your Majesty. We tried to whip him but that only made him worse. Glossary wild rough/harsh mount a horse to climb onto the back of a horse to tame to control whip to beat using a long rope King Philip asked his men to take the horse away. It is a pity to send such a fine horse away. I think the men do not know how to tame him. I can try taming this beautiful horse. Perhaps you can do better than them. But be careful, my son. You are still very young to mount this violent animal. Alexander wanted to (mount/feed/tame/ ride) the horse. If you would give me the order, I will try. I am sure I can manage this horse better than anyone else. Antonym(s) worse x better young x old fail x succeed If I fail, I will pay you the price of the horse, Father. The courtiers told Alexander that it might be dangerous for a young boy to try taming the wild horse. They laughed at him. Alexander went near the horse and turned his head towards the sun. He had noticed that the horse was afraid of his own shadow. I will name you Bucephalus. Stay calm and I will do no harm. The horse was afraid of his own (body/courtiers/King Philip/shadow). English He then spoke gently to the horse. Bucephalus means 'ox-head'â head of an ox, in Ancient Greek. When he had quietened him a little, he made a quick spring and leapt upon the horse's back. I thought the little prince would be killed by this dangerous animal. What a miracle! The horse has recognized the young prince as his master. Alexander let the horse run. When Bucephalus had become tired of running, Alexander reined him in and rode back to the place where his father was standing. Glossary noticed (here) to see afraid scared/frightened calm quiet gently softly quietened to become calmer and less noisy a miracle a wonder/unusual event to rein to check or guide a horse Look at the young prince! He is mounted well! But the horse is still wild! Antonym(s); laughed x cried afraid x brave. English When he reached the place where his father was standing, he leapt to the ground. His father ran and kissed him. Dear Father! I shall add My son! Macedonia is a small kingdom more territories and bring for you. You must seek a larger kingdom glory to our kingdom. that will be worthy of you. Fascinating Fact(s) Alexandria Bucephalus was a city founded by Alexander in memory of his loyal horse Bucephalus. During Alexander's invasion of India, he had fought against the Indian King, Porus, near the river Hydaspes (modern day river Jhelum, Pakistan). His horse Bucephalus died there and he honoured his horse by naming the city after it. Antonym(s) worthy x unworthy proud x ashamed You have carried me across countries and stood bravely beside me as I fought to win the numerous fierce battles. You have saved my life many times. I am truly proud of you, Bucephalus. (Mesopotamia/Minneapolis/ Macedonia/Minnesota) was a small kingdom for Alexander to rule. Glossary numerous many fierce strong and violent Alexander and Bucephalus were said to be always together, for when one of them was seen, the other was sure to be not far away. Bucephalus would never allow anyone to mount him, but his master. Alexander became the most famous king and warrior, and for that reason, he is called 'Alexander the Great!. âOn this night, we share a roof protecting us from fleets of inequity. Our unification promises a better tomorrow. Those larger than myself, sitting on their marble thrones, sipping blood from cups composed of human skin and singing songs of so-called virtue, grow weaker each moment. Their caravans are revolting. There is hope yet. There is progress! Though tonight may mark a countdown, it is still a celebration. Look at all we have done, not just for Trials but for Palatium Infra as a whole. In four years, when Iâm no longer Sovereignty, the Spoiled Purity and his people will continue to strive. So drink! Smoke! Crush up those exotic plants and snort them! We will not falter, weaken, or wane. Our influence is expanding, and somebody new opens their eyes every day. Even the Silbys of Aculeus have reached alarming potentials despite their embittered minds. So long as you relish in tonight, dance, and pray to your âdeadâ Gods, our revolution shall rise beyond the bounds of class, and when Iâm only a commoner, we shall rise again beyond our brainwashed adversaries! Cheers, my people. Cheers!â Followers raised their cups. Some clinked theirs together. Others stood still and screamed breathlessly in agreement. I smiled with courtesy, then stepped off my platform. My voice still rang across the cellar. Speeches before were grander. Those displays were supposed to be emptying, and yet this one left me bloated, swollen tight. I watched as they popped the corks of their bottles and chanted in the name of Purity. Maybe the quality of my words wasnât what mattered to them anyway, so long as I screamed loud enough. Thereâs no merit in attacking your people, a voice corrected me. âThatâs right,â I said aloud. âKnox, my-my Sovereign!â squealed a nearby devotee, jittering as he stuffed his face with catered pastries. He was one Iâd never seen before or had failed to remember. âLook what Iâve found! Itâs wine, and not the shoddy Infran kind, either. Earth-made with good fruit! I donât know how anyone managed to get their hands on this. Maybe some space travel mischief.â He giggled and held up a small glass bottle. âHow neat.â âI want you to have it, Sir.â I nodded my head. âYes, of course. Thank you.â Backing off into the midst of rowdy disciples, I clutched the bottle. What a waste of grapes. It could have been jam instead. Earthly food had a superior taste, ripe with delicate intricacies and nostalgia, but Palatium Infra had mastered the art of alcohol. Why waste your time with a drunkenness so sad and sickening? The booze of trash. Not many more followers approached me. The barren peroration must have upset them. My hands itched to submerge into my suit pockets, and my legs stood suddenly numb, wobbling. Four more years until Iâm nothing. But tonight, you are nothing. âShut up,â I told myself. Tightly packed together in the corner of the dwelling sat the Sibyls. A mound of writhing fabric and tones of skin made up their unified silhouette. I snapped the strap of the nearest gown, balancing on my hands and knees, waving the bottle before them. In their almost rodent nature, narrow noses prodded my way. Their dresses wrinkled and fell to their ankles. Knees dropped, and eyes widened. Many grumbled at me like hungry she-beasts. Those newer ones with faded curtains for hair, sunken eyes, and dirtied nails looked, hid their face, then sobbed. I imagined them in a pack together, fighting wildly against the Spoiled Purity in their rat decorumâbiting down with square teeth laced with rabies. âIâve got you all something,â I said. âGo back off to your pedestal and yap some more. We donât want it.â A woman rose from the pile and spat. âYou donât even know what it is yet. It's Earth hooch, or more likely a near-flawless replica. I figured you girls would also like a chance to enjoy yourselves tonight.â âYour playmates have been harassing us since the moment you hung the banners and opened the cellar door.â The youngest, with a striking cyan mop upon her head, uncoiled from the mass. What was she now? 20, 21? We celebrated a birthday recently, I thought as she spun around me. âI remember something about a promise. Multiple promises, actually. Are you trying to bribe us into just shutting up and taking it? Because if another sticky, 40-year-old, Earth-born virgin gropes my shoulder, Iâm going to have an aneurysm!â the girl continued. âWhy not an Infran follower? Do you like it when they touch you?â I returned her accusing tone. âIâm sorry, sweet prophets, that you feel Iâve neglected my duties. Iâll keep a better eye out. Remember, you can always just holler if somebody is bothering you. And Anwen, friend, if Iâve ever tried to bribe you with anything, it was certainly the hair dye. I mean, look at you! Such handsomeness!â I exclaimed. The other Siblys began to encircle her, uttering compliments or even announcements of their envy. Anwen disappeared in a wink with flushed cheeks back into the mound. âIâll just leave this here.â Smiling, I set down the bottle. ** â141, 143. . .â I counted each step as I trekked the staircase. There was no doubt I lost track somewhere. The ledges kept spawning under my feet, infinitely multiplying until I wasnât moving at allâswallowing me up in a whirlpool of stone. My tie still hung around my neck, and my blazer remained tied around my hips as a skirt. Streaks of red dribbled off from the cavity in my chest. It was a gorgeous marking, sensual to my fingertips as I traced its edges. Purity, oh, Purity. Purity and his wings of burnt skin. Purity and his many faces. Purity the spoiled. Purity the mutilated. The Silbys did not bother waiting for me. On bare feet, they stormed up the stairs to their room. A trail of red, though in paint unlike mine, streamed after them. None looked remotely near me as they squeaked and gossiped intangibly. I saved them, those Infran broads, enlightened them. As much as they liked to deny it, spit at me, and bask in the thought of their victimhood, in this home, they stood empowered. Youâve done well, my thoughts affirmed, though in the manner of an insincere commentator rather than a hype man. Teeth grace in tile violin goes laundry paper when. It dissolved into an intruding drivel. I rubbed my head and sniveled. âDo you need help, Knox?â called a Silby. Fattened by my coddling, her shadow fell upon me from the doorway steps ahead. I attempted counting again. There mustâve been at least another hundred between me and her. âIâm hallucinating some,â I said, breathing deeply to suppress a burp as I struggled to recall her name. Two syllables. Typically Latin, though sometimes English. Drops of slobber leaked from my mouth. âIâm hallucinating some, Tybal. Do you like your name, Tybal? I would have named you something better. Ty-Tyballinia. No, weâd have to eliminate the âballâ aspect. It sounds too crude.â âOne foot in front of the other,â she said. So I walked. Mess greeted me at the doorway. Dirtied culinary obscured the dark wooden countertops, and the sink lay running. I approached the kitchen table, sat, and set my face down upon its cool wooden surface. Assaulting my nose was the smell of neglected flowers, like soil mixed with the kind of sweet cough medicine that would have left me gagging as a child. Open windows whispered songs of the twilight hour through the vessels of busy trolleys and shooting guns. My mouth strained to vomit, but there was nothing in my stomach to regurgitate except the petals of Stultoâs bloom, which came out effortlessly in little sputters. Teetering, I stood up and brushed disgorged plant parts off the tabletop. âLove,â I said as I slogged up yet another staircase. âAre you awake?â She said sheâd wait. Somebodyâs gotten her. No, she always misses movie night. That sleepyhead, I assured myself. There was a stirring amidst the manorâs cloak of dusk. Portraits of myself, my wife, and my daughter turned to face me as the hallway lights flickered, escaping their quartz frames to penetrate my ears with nonsense. The taxidermied heads of Infran creatures bared their teeth. I stopped to stare at my favorite, an adabactor with daunting spiked tusks poking out from its forehead. Its nose remained black and sharp, and its eyes wide with malice. âWhere is my Spes, Adaba-boy? Is she sleepy?â Thereâs someone in the house. The sounds of the stirring rose along with my blood pressure. Footsteps orbited around me, drawing near and far and then near again, little dancers in the dark. The carpet immersed me in its mass of purples and blues, leaving my skin stained indigo and my vision abstracted. I toiled to reach the master bedroom across the aisle as it stretched out to me with bright lights and celestial howling, like a dove struggling in a pool of oil. Never again with Stultoâs bloom. Never again on what was already a bad night. My hand brushed the doorknob, and the high abruptly faded into only a persistent hum-buzz twirling around my brain. The portraits returned to their typical depressionâSpes posing with her ax, Ariâs school photo, and myself in the cap I wore when addressing the military with the Verbis emblem embroidered in its center. All lifeless shots. Who were they for when they captured not the subjectâs essence but only some fragment of their identity? They used to feel personal, not advertisements of some supposed characters. Servants, babysitters, and likewise civilian guests, I reminded myself, mustnât forget whose home theyâre in. Yet my body moved independently, taking Ariâs from its hook and laying it backward against the wall to hide her distant grin and tamed posture. It was time for new pictures. Sweet ones, real ones; time was ticking. I approached my own when the stirring began again. Groans and squeals erupted from the vents as if someone had set a pen of pigs loose in my crawlspace. No, not the crawlspace, my bedroom door. I turned the ruby knob. Underneath a blanket wrestled my two squealing piglets, their skins melting together beneath the layer of duvet. Fishnet leggings and manicured nails outstretched and scraped at the sheet beneath them. One raised its head, a salmon-colored man with sweat running down his forehead. Through the crack in the door, we met eyes, his Infran Dr. Sesuss nose flaring its narrow nostrils. No mark of the Spoiled Purity existed carved onto his naked body. My chest felt tight. I stepped back. I was suffocating. Spes emerged from the linens, her hair flowing down her back and her dark skin glistening in front of the bedroom window. She giggled and held the man, the blanket falling and revealing inches of her body I had not seen in months. âDarling,â whispered the rosy-faced man, âlook.â He was unfathomably ugly and grotesquely young, with beady, lifeless pupils that dilated when he faced me. The excess flesh on his face sagged while he bit down on his thin lips. My wife faced me, gasped, and strained to cover herself. Suddenly, I was a stranger. A small child who had walked into his parents having sex. I unfurled the door completely. âGet out of my house,â I said. The man stayed in place. âGet out of my house,â I repeated. âKnox,â Spes began. Tears ran down her round cheeks. âShut up!â I turned to the man, picking up a marble trophy from on top of my dresser. âGet out of my house! Iâll kill you!â âKnox!â Spes sobbed. âGod damn it! I hate you! You barely look at me. Every day, thereâs less passion. God, God, God, I donât want to fuck a dead man!â she screamed, âYou get out! Get! Get!â My hands wrapped tighter around the statue. That pig of a man was attached to her at the side, his face equipped with a scowl that challenged mine. He thought I was weak; frail like a decaying dementia-ridden senior. I imagined his skull bashed in, his scowl gone, and the feist and confidence in his face beaten into numbness. A new portrait was in order of such brutality, him as a splintered slab of wood, rashed and beaten, a carcass licking my boot. The churning in my brain had come back. Every wall shook. Clock faces came to life and rang in alarm. Indescribable noises caressed my eardrum before breaking into sorrowful weeps. Was it my own? I stared at Spes in motionless frenzy, clenched my teeth, and screamed like a siren. Passionless. What a lie! An excuse, more like. One that erased all my ventures, reducing me to a nobody. But I was not a nobody. I thought of my sect, my campaigns, my endurance through the political brutality of my empty hive-mind worldâeven my collection of literature, maps, and artifacts. I thought of daring nights alone with Spes when we were young, ravaging each other, two sardonic eggheads suddenly overcome with desire. The veins in my neck throbbed as I gasped for air. It was all I had. I threw the figurine at the manâs head. Eye shut, I heard the thud. A million singing voices of victory flooded out of the cracks in the floorboard. Proving myself a man to the woman I loved in a display of fervent violence was passion. I strained my ears for his cries, though I did not look yet. There had to be a pause, a moment of relief, where I stood tall as a skyscraper and seemingly fought to stay contained in front of my wife and her wounded, quivering paramour. Frantic footsteps rushed off the bed and past my side. I turned and grappled against myself to seize my wifeâs shoulder. âSpes!â My eyelids lifted. Escaping was the man with that same numb expression in which I had imagined him. âYouâre insane,â he said. I swiveled back towards the bed. With her curly locks flowing over her breasts and her limbs bent at her sides, Spes sat limp pressed against the headboard, her forehead bludgeoned and the statue resting on her stomach. Lips pursed and sweet, my Renaissance beauty reclined there in the guise of a squashed bug. But she was not dead. The desk ornament I flung was only the size of my shoe. Spes, that dramatist, may have been slightly hurt but was far from dead. She only wanted me to think she was to observe me at my most distraught, like a leech feeding on misery. âGet up.â Staggering toward the bed, I said. âYou wanted passion? I showed you passion. âShoved it right into your head. Of course, we both know who that gesture was meant for. . .â I fumbled to find my wit. Cold skin met my hands as I stroked her face, unable to resist checking her pulse, even though she was not dead. âI love you, Spes,â I said. Rain pelted against a nearby window. âSpes, please. Please.â No vibration answered my plea. I lifted my hand, sitting next to her now. Tears did not come. There was not any blood on the trophy, but when I picked it up, it felt to be now only a cruel instrument. It depicted a younger me in white marble, with my glasses and collared shirt being the only things painted. Both were in pink. It was a favorable color. I scrambled from the bed to vomit pure digestive bile on the rug. My stomach heaved. I ran my nails along every piece of myself I saw, a dog chasing my tail. As I slammed myself against walls and convulsed, my own heart grew ever louder in my chest. âDad? I heardââ Ariâs slippered feet hammered across the floor. âMom? Mom?â I kept my eyes on the storm. Silence fell. âShe-She isnâtâyourâ.â Gasps interrupted every syllable she spoke. âYouâre a murderer. Bad. Like they said,â she breathed, â You beat her!â The words became mush, alphabet soup. Ari ran back down the hall. âMy-My mom is dead. . . .Yes. . . Manor of the Trials Sovereignty. . .Ari Sorkin. . . Iâm afraid heâs going to hurt me,â she said, presumably over the phone. It was all too fast. I crawled onto the windowsill, opened the glass, and let myself plummet into the alley below. Gusts of wind howled. The lack of motion or sensation informed me I had passed and again lived. Another Palatium Infra, another strange planet in which the celestial endowed rotting men with the opportunity to inhabit. Was this it? Was it all just an impossible limbo of galactic traveling? My surroundings were overwhelmingly gray, an abyss of clouds. Perhaps I had now met the real coming world, and my family and old friends lived here, ready to rush to my sides, lift me up, and jump for joy. Spes would be there. She would be enraged, but at least sheâd be there. You are a bad man. You are a bad man. My eyelashes fluttered. There was a tugging sensation in my leg. The fog was wavering along with my ascendance. âNo,â I yearned, trying to grip the clouds and stick them in place. âStay with me.â But the peace was fleeting. I felt the cement under me and the moist garments clinging to my figure. My leg burned. Carefully, I craned my neck, only to observe the promenade as my surroundings. The most underwhelming of filth and danger, individually Infran. Forever my coming world. What a fool I was, having forgotten my blessing. Those idiot Gods could not tell the difference between assassination and self-infliction; a faulty insurance plan. The urge to cry at last set over me, and so I sat and wailed hot salvia into my palm, shielding my mouth to muffle the noise. Thunder echoed my hushed howling. Raindrops turned to pebbles. Under the ambiance of the stormy night, I could have sworn I heard troops stomping, guns cocking, and the chanting of my name. They had all been waiting for this. Billboards came to life, and I could only sit and spectate as the scenery flashed red. I inhaled fear and sobriety through runny nostrils. âTrials Sovereign Vsevolod âKnoxâ Sorkin is currently at large for the suspected homicide of Spes Sorkin, breaking the first term of the Sovereignty Charter. We now instruct you to report any sightings of the Earth-born, caucasian, roughly 195 centimeters tall, brown-haired, and brown-eyed man to your local Guard post. One can identify the suspected convict specifically by an occult tattoo of Purityâs Coronet on his lower back. No attempted execution or elongated punishment will take place until our Guards conduct an autopsy proving his guilt, per Lifeâs 1238 commandment. We cannot be sure when or if the Gods will revoke his blessing. Remember, when Gods frown upon strife, opt for a peaceful life. We permit all grieving festivities until Cagidus 4th. Good year!â towering buildings sang out in broadcast, repeating that same convoluted message quicker the instant it ended. Sometimes, the announcer spoke in Latin for the Infran children, other times in Chinese, Hindi, or Spanish to cater to those of irrelevant tongues. You arenât a bad man. You are a stupid boy. Puddles sloshed. Somebody was approaching. I didnât dare waste any remaining energy avoiding the Guards and their prodding blades. How did that phrase go? You dug your grave. Now lie in it. And so I embraced the cement. âKnox?â said the Guard. No, her tone was too sincere, and no authority would proceed in such a manner. There wasnât confirmation on whether or not I was armed, and it wasnât as if she could shoot me first. She was a partygoer, having just left from the cellarâs backdoor. I shooed her away with my hand. She hovered, and I discerned her shadow hesitating over my body. A man could not rot in peace. âCome on, get up! Theyâre after you!â Hands reached around my torso, struggling to handle my weight as they urged me onto my feet. That leg, the burning one, my right, trembled and bent unnaturally upon impact with the ground. The partygoer slung my arm over her shoulder, balancing me. My eyes caught a glimpse of a cyan mop. âAnwen?â I rasped, âhu-who let you out?â Keys jangled in her handsâmy keys. âI escaped,â she said casually, coercing me to walk beside her. âQuicken your pace. I just heard somebody on your front porch. âYou see that compost bin down the alley? Weâre gonna burrow right down into the depth of that. If they open it and uncover us, Iâll be on top, and I can hide you and act like Iâm just a homeless amica trying to take a nap.â With a tightening grip, she led me like livestock to the stinking crate. âI donât understand, Anwen,â I said. âTheyâre going to torture and kill you, stupid. You know theyâve been wanting to, and you just handed the opportunity to them!â âI understand that.â It was becoming increasingly challenging to hide the fragility emerging in my voice. âYou said you were escaping. Why stop and help your captor?â âWhat else could I do? Leave you there?â Attempts to shove my wounded body inside its mass of discarded fruits and vegetables began. She yanked down upon my head and submerged me in the fertilizer sea. The evidence grows indisputable, I thought as I stared at the abruptly humane Infran girl, diving in after me, that I belong here. âDamn me to hell! Iâve killed her! My love is dead!â an uncontrollable cry leaped from my mouth. âShut up! Soon youâll be, too, if you donât quiet down.â The actual noise of the Guards darted past us: disorientated marching, guns clanking against each other, cluttered belts rattling, the Latin squawking. One paused to open the binâs lid, though only rummaged through the surface layer of peat before carrying on. âWhat are they talking about? I struggle with my Latin,â I whispered. âThe search, mainly.â Aggression remained firey in Anwenâs clenched jaw. Though she sat on top of me, there was a monumental distance between our rain-soaked forms. I curled up into a ball, ducked my head between my knees, and dreamt of Spes, ignoring the stench of spoiled food rising from every crevice of my dwelling. The next coming world was due to adopt me again as I forced sleep. I prayed for a canyon of fluffy haze, where I waltzed with pale memories but found nothing but the petrifying stillness of my mind. Killed and ran. Violent as a Guard just to prove a point and watch it backfire. Why would any heaven want to welcome me? I clung to the picture of Spes in my head like it was the last ember of an extinguished flame. âDid you mean to kill her?â Anwen interrogated. âSomeone like you would immutably believe yes.â âAnd who is someone like me? You canât even treat me like a person for a moment, can you?â grating drama decorated her words. âYou know my opinions. I have not seen much of your or your breedâs faces besides that of cruelty and ignorance.â I retorted. âI just saved you! Does that make me cruel and ignorant?â âIt makes you an idiot, which is another word for somebody ignorant.â âAnd why am I an idiot?â She asked. âBecause you helping me does no good. Thank you anyhow. Now, do yourself a favor and scram.â As she bent her leg in anticipation, preparing to strike me on the forehead, I sensed an invisible withdrawal widening the gap between us. âYou never answered my question,â Anwen took me by the end of my tattered tie suddenly and started her game of shepherd and sheep over again, pulling me back up to the crateâs exit. It appeared as a shining light at the end of a maze of rubbish and mold. âNo. Of course not. Spes was my everything,â I sniffled. âI knew it. You couldnât even bring yourself to hit us, let alone murder your wife. The girls and I always figured you were sensitive.â My heart rate quickened. Today was one of humbling and miseryâone to pray a hail spike would fall from the sky as sharp as a needle, pierce into my eyelid, and lobotomize me. I wished I could have merely died or hit my head hard enough not to have to deal with it all. No, I wished I was Anwen with her snarky, careless glow and lack of depth in her eyes. As we emerged from the compost bin together, I fantasized about strangling her until her face turned purple, her weakening spirit no longer categorizing me as âsensitiveâ, but the thought could only remind me of wielding that trophy and the microscopic traces of my wifeâs tender skin tainting it, which turned my guts inside out. âThatâs why I think you could use a little help,â Anwen said, âIt seems like you canât walk, either. Your leg is all twisted up.â She undid one of her trim pigtails and handed me the band. âTake off your tie and put up your hair. âWill make you less recognizable. Then swallow your pride and stick with me.âEnglish is fun .