This is an example newspaper article which may contain some (few) errors - or none at all. Reading this critically should help find those errors there may be or, alternatively, convince you that there are none!
Tallulah's beauty
The town appears out of the surrounding landscape unexpectedly, houses hugging the ground and wide streets sprawling across the dry earth.
A sign outside a garage swings rustily in the breeze, and a lone goat grazes happily nearby. A curtain stirs, and a woman materialises at the window. Her slender figure is attired in a candy-coloured gown, a fur stole draped around a graceful neck. She raises a jewel-encrusted hand languidly, multi-faceted diamonds sparkling in the early morning light.
Tallulah's beauty is revered by many who pass this way, her elaborate and often eccentric outfits whispered about in the town. Yet Tallulah is trapped, destined to spend the rest of her days staring out across the bitumen of State Highway One. Her limbs are still, her gaze fixed. However, she does still have both her legs, which in the world of aging mannequins is no mean feat.
Her owner Nola Barrett is matter of fact when asked about the plastic woman who graces her front window, and whose clothes she changes regularly.
"Yeah, people seem to like her," she says, tilting her head. "Someone wrote a letter to her once."
What did it say?
"Oh, you know, it was from some firm in Hawera. Just asking about how she was doing, having a bit of a chat about the weather."
For anyone else this may seem unusual, but for Nola, you get the feeling that this is just part of everyday life. Tallulah isn't the only mannequin to adorn the front of Nola's house. A drag queen seems to have taken a dive into a circle of pebbles on the front lawn, as a pair of shapely purple legs jut out towards the sky. The fence is a web of tarantulas; the mailbox a purse, held by a brightly clad iron lady who chats airily on the cellphone in her other hand.
Nola has established a reputation for her unique art work in Sanson, her home town now for the past few years. Bling is her self-confessed obsession, with her friends describing her as "like a magpie" with her attraction to brightly coloured objects.
"I'm a material girl," she confesses. "I just feel like the world is too dull sometimes, and needs to be brightened up."
And brighten it up she has, with her newest pieces currently on display in Artitude Gallery, next to the Caltex station in central Sanson. Wrought iron butterflies flap their way across the walls, bejeweled wings flashing. A young woman and her dog strut with a turquoise radiance, while the beaded breasts of a pair of mannequin torsos glimmer on the floor below.
Nola adopts a self-effacing manner when asked about her work.
"I'm not really an artist," she says, to the chagrin of her friends Judy Meredith and Sally Hughes, who also exhibit in the gallery.
"Yes you are, your house is amazing." Sally protests.
"It's not as nice as yours," Nola retorts, comfortably.
The three friends have been displaying art in the gallery together since it opened in February.
"I guess I've always done crafty type stuff, and been arty farty," Nola says. "I actually used to be a nice, normal, quiet person until I discovered bling."
Her inspiration come in unexpected bursts, she says.
"I like to say to my husband - I've had a vision!" she intones dramatically, arms spread wide. What does he do for a living?
"Oh, he's in logging," says Nola.
"He should be a psychologist remarks Judy, a barely repressed smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Fits of giggles ensue.
The ladies have nothing but praise for Sanson.
"I love it here; it never stops," says Nola with pride. "You get to see all kinds of interesting things."
A sleepy little town this is not, and things are about to get even more interesting for Sanson - it will soon find itself as the starring location in a novel Sally is writing. The novel, which Sally says is inspired by Nola, is to be a dark and mysterious horror story. And not to give too much away, but the tragically beautiful, enigmatic protagonist in the novel is to be named - you guessed it - Tallulah.
