2 WORD COUNT: DONT READ

e. There were two choices for every situation and you had to choose one of them. It was therefore terribly uncomfortable for him to spend time with Ashley. She saw the world in shades of gray with hundreds of choices to choose from in every situation.

He ordered his regular breakfast. Two eggs sunnyside up, hash browns, and two strips of bacon. He continued to look at the menu wondering if this would be the day he added something new. This was also part of the routine. A few seconds of hesitation to see if something else would be added to the order before demuring and saying that would be all. It was the same exact meal that he had ordered every day for the past two years.

She glanced up into the sky to watch the clouds taking shaFinally, she saw a giant umbrella and at that moment the rain began to pour.

Matt told her to reach for the stars, but Veronica thought it was the most ridiculous advice she'd ever received. Sure, it had been well-meaning when he said it, but she didn't understand why anyone would want to suggest something that would literally kill you if you actually managed to achieve it.

It wasn't that he hated her. It was simply that he didn't like her much. It was difficult for him to explain this to her, and even more difficult for her to truly understand. She was in love and wanted him to feel the same way. He didn't, and no matter how he tried to explain to her she refused to listen or to understand.

The light was out on the front porch of the house. This was strange. Judy couldn't remember a time when she had ever seen it out. She hopped out of her car and walked to the door. It was slightly ajar and she knew this meant something terrible. She gently pushed the door open and hall her fears were realized. "Surprise! Happy Birthday!" everyone shouted.

The robot clicked disapprovingly, gurgled briefly inside its cubical interior and extruded a pony glass of brownish liquid. "Sir, you will undoubtedly end up in a drunkard's grave, dead of hepatic cirrhosis," it informed me virtuously as it returned my ID card. I glared as I pushed the glass across the table.

The headache wouldn't go away. She's taken medicine but even that didn't help. The monstrous throbbing in her head continued. She had this happen to her only once before in her life and she realized that only one thing could be happening.

The tree missed the days the kids used to come by and play. It still wore the tire swing the kids had put up in its branches years ago although both the tire and the rope had seen better days. The tree had watched all the kids in the neighborhood grow up and leave, and it wondered if there would ever be a time when another child played and laughed again under its branches. That was the hope that the tree wished every day as the swing gently swung empty in the wind.

"It's never good to give them details," Janice told her sister. "Always be a little vague and keep them guessing." Her sister listened intently and nodded in agreement. She didn't fully understand what her sister was saying but that didn't matter. She loved her so much that she would have agreed to whatever came out of her mouth.

It was a concerning development that he couldn't get out of his mind. He'd had many friends throughout his early years and had fond memories of playing with them, but he couldn't understand how it had all stopped. There was some point as he grew up that he played with each of his friends for the very last time, and he had no idea that it would be the last.

He dropped the ball. While most people would think that this was a metaphor of some type, in Joe's case it was absolutely literal. He had hopes of reaching the Major League and that dream was now it great jeopardy. All because he had dropped the ball.

Lori lived her life through the lens of a camera. She never realized this until this very moment as she scrolled through thousands of images on your computer. She could remember the exact moment each photo was taken. She could remember where she had been, what she was thinking as she tried to get the shot, the smells of the surrounding area, and even the emotions that she felt taking the photo, yet she had trouble remembering what she had for breakfast.

"What is the best way to get what you want?" she asked. He looked down at the ground knowing that she wouldn't like his answer. He hesitated, knowing that the truth would only hurt. How was he going to tell her that the best way for him to get what he wanted was to leave her?

She has seen this scene before. It had come to her in dreams many times before. She had to pinch herself to make sure it wasn't a dream again. As her fingers squeezed against her arm, she felt the pain. It was this pain that immediately woke her up.

It really doesn't matter what she thinks as it isn't her problem to solve. That's what he kept trying to convince himself. She was trying to insert her opinion where it wasn't wanted or welcome. He already had a plan and even though that plan didn't correspond with what she wanted him to do or what should be done, it wasn't her decision to make. The question now became whether he would stick to his convictions and go through with his plan knowing she wouldn't approve.

She sat deep in thought. The next word that came out o her mouth would likely be the most important word of her life. It had to be exact with no possibility of being misinterpreted. She was ready. She looked deeply into his eyes and said, "Octopus."

The red line moved across the page. With each millimeter it advanced forward, something changed in the room. The actual change taking place was difficult to perceive, but the change was real. The red line continued relentlessly across the page and the room would never be the same.

They had always called it the green river. It made sense. The river was green. The river likely had a different official name, but to everyone in town, it was and had always been the green river. So it was with great surprise that on this day the green river was a fluorescent pink.

The rain and wind abruptly stopped, but the sky still had the gray swirls of storms in the distance. Dave knew this feeling all too well. The calm before the storm. He only had a limited amount of time before all Hell broke loose, but he stopped to admire the calmness. Maybe it would be different this time, he thought, with the knowledge deep within that it wouldn't.

The light blinded him. It was dark and he thought he was the only one in the area, but the light shining in his eyes proved him wrong. It came from about 100 feet away and was shining so directly into his eyes he couldn't make out anything about the person holding the light. There was only one thing to do in this situation. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flashlight of his own that was much stronger than the one currently blinding him. He turned it on and pointed it into the stranger's eyes.

There was no time. He ran out of the door without half the stuff he needed for work, but it didn't matter. He was late and if he didn't make this meeting on time, someone's life may be in danger.

Where do they get a random paragraph?" he wondered as he clicked the generate button. Do they just write a random paragraph or do they get it somewhere? At that moment he read the random paragraph and realized it was about random paragraphs and his world would never be the same.

After hunting for several hours, we finally saw a large seal sunning itself on a flat rock. I took one of the wooden clubs while Larry took the longer one. We slowly snuck up behind the seal until we were close enough to club it over its head. The seal slumped over and died. This seal would help us survive. We could eat the meat and fat. The fat could be burned in a shell for light and the fur could be used to make a blanket. We declared our first day of hunting a great success.

Samantha wanted to be famous. The problem was that she had never considered all the downsides to actually being famous. Had she taken the time to objectively consider these downsides, she would have never agreed to publically sing that first song.

It was a weird concept. Why would I really need to generate a random paragraph? Could I actually learn something from doing so? All these questions were running through her head as she pressed the generate button. To her surprise, she found what she least expected to see.

It was just a burger. Why couldn't she understand that? She knew he'd completely changed his life around her eating habits, so why couldn't she give him a break this one time? She wasn't even supposed to have found out. Yes, he had promised her and yes, he had broken that promise, but still in his mind, all it had been was just a burger.

She nervously peered over the edge. She understood in her mind that the view was supposed to be beautiful, but all she felt was fear. There had always been something about heights that disturbed her, and now she could feel the full force of this unease. She reluctantly crept a little closer with the encouragement of her friends as the fear continued to build. She couldn't help but feel that something horrible was about to happen.

Things aren't going well at all with mom today. She is just a limp noodle and wants to sleep all the time. I sure hope that things get better soon.

The red glow of tail lights indicating another long drive home from work after an even longer 24-hour shift at the hospital. The shift hadn't been horrible but the constant stream of patients entering the ER meant there was no downtime. She had some of the "regulars" in tonight with new ailments they were sure were going to kill them. It's amazing what a couple of Tylenol and a physical exam from the doctor did to eliminate their pain, nausea, headache, or whatever other mild symptoms they had. Sometimes she wondered if all they really needed was some interaction with others and a bit of the individual attention they received from the nurses.

It really shouldn't have mattered to Betty. That's what she kept trying to convince herself even if she knew it mattered to Betty more than practically anything else. Why was she trying to convince herself otherwise? As she stepped forward to knock on Betty's door, she still didn't have a convincing answer to this question that she'd been asking herself for more than two years now.

They had no proof. He knew that they knew he had done it but they didn't have any proof. It was a huge distinction and it was the difference between him keeping his freedom or being locked away for decades. They continued to question him, probing him for information that they could use against him or find the proof they needed to put him away. He smiled and continued to block their every inquiry by feigning his innocence for a crime they all knew he committed.

Her hand was balled into a fist with her keys protruding out from between her fingers. This was the weapon her father had shown her how to make when she walked alone to her car after work. She wished that she had something a little more potent than keys between her fingers. It would have been nice to have some mace or pepper spray. He had been meaning to buy some but had never gotten around to it. As the mother bear took another step forward with her cubs in tow, she knew her fist with keys wasn't going to be an adequate defense for this situation.

Here's the thing. She doesn't have anything to prove, but she is going to anyway. That's just her character. She knows she doesn't have to, but she still will just to show you that she can. Doubt her more and she'll prove she can again. We all already know this and you will too.

There once lived an old man and an old woman who were peasants and had to work hard to earn their daily bread. The old man used to go to fix fences and do other odd jobs for the farmers around, and while he was gone the old woman, his wife, did the work of the house and worked in their own little plot of land.

One can cook on and with an open fire. These are some of the ways to cook with fire outside. Cooking meat using a spit is a great way to evenly cook meat. In order to keep meat from burning, it's best to slowly rotate it. Hot stones can be used to toast bread. Coals are hot and can bring things to a boil quickly. If one is very adventurous, one can make a hole in the ground, fill it with coals and place foil-covered meat, veggies, and potatoes into the coals, and cover all of it with dirt. In a short period of time, the food will be baked. Campfire cooking can be done in many ways.

Sometimes that's just the way it has to be. Sure, there were probably other options, but he didn't let them enter his mind. It was done and that was that. It was just the way it had to be.

There wasn't a bird in the sky, but that was not what caught her attention. It was the clouds. The deep green that isn't the color of clouds, but came with these. She knew what was coming and she hoped she was prepared.

It was their first date and she had been looking forward to it the entire week. She had her eyes on him for months, and it had taken a convoluted scheme with several friends to make it happen, but he'd finally taken the hint and asked her out. After all the time and effort she'd invested into it, she never thought that it would be anything but wonderful. It goes without saying that things didn't work out quite as she expected.

There wasn't a whole lot more that could be done. It had become a wait-and-see situation with the final results no longer in her control. That didn't stop her from trying to control the situation. She demanded that things be done as she desperately tried to control what couldn't be.

You know that tingly feeling you get on the back of your neck sometimes? I just got that feeling when talking with her. You know I don't believe in sixth senses, but there is something not right with her. I don't know how I know, but I just do.

It was a scrape that he hardly noticed. Sure, there was a bit of blood but it was minor compared to most of the other cuts and bruises he acquired on his adventures. There was no way he could know that the rock that produced the cut had alien genetic material on it that was now racing through his bloodstream. He felt perfectly normal and continued his adventure with no knowledge of what was about to happen to him.

The house was located at the top of the hill at the end of a winding road. It wasn't obvious that the house was there, but everyone in town knew that it existed. They were just all too afraid to ever go and see it in person.

The box sat on the desk next to the computer. It had arrived earlier in the day and business had interrupted her opening it earlier. She didn't who had sent it and briefly wondered who it might have been. As she began to unwrap it, she had no idea that opening it would completely change her life.

Twenty seconds were all that was left and Richard could hear each one tick by. Fifteen seconds now remained and the panic began to fully set in. Ten seconds and he wasn't sure he had enough time. Five seconds, four, three, two, one...

Although Scott said it didn't matter to him, he knew deep inside that it did. They had been friends as long as he could remember and not once had he had to protest that something Joe apologized for doing didn't really matter. Scott stuck to his lie and insisted again and again that everything was fine as Joe continued to apologize. Scott already knew that despite his words accepting the apologies that their friendship would never be the same.

Indescribable oppression, which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar part of her consciousness, filled her whole being with a vague anguish. It was like a shadow, like a mist passing across her soul's summer day. It was strange and unfamiliar; it was a mood. She did not sit there inwardly upbraiding her husband, lamenting at Fate, which had directed her footsteps to the path which they had taken. She was just having a good cry all to herself. The mosquitoes made merry over her, biting her firm, round arms and nipping at her bare insteps.

Time is all relative based on age and experience. When you are a child an hour is a long time to wait but a very short time when that's all the time you are allowed on your iPad. As a teenager time goes faster the more deadlines you have and the more you procrastinate. As a young adult, you think you have forever to live and don't appreciate the time you spend with others. As a middle-aged adult, time flies by as you watch your children grow up. And finally, as you get old and you have fewer responsibilities and fewer demands on you, time slows. You appreciate each day and are thankful you are alive. An hour is the same amount of time for everyone yet it can feel so different in how it goes by.

The leather jacked showed the scars of being his favorite for years. It wore those scars with pride, feeling that they enhanced his presence rather than diminishing it. The scars gave it character and had not overwhelmed to the point that it had become ratty. The jacket was in its prime and it knew it.

Do you really listen when you are talking with someone? I have a friend who listens in an unforgiving way. She actually takes every word you say as being something important and when you have a friend that listens like that, words take on a whole new meaning

e. There were two choices for every situation and you had to choose one of them. It was therefore terribly uncomfortable for him to spend time with Ashley. She saw the world in shades of gray with hundreds of choices to choose from in every situation.

He ordered his regular breakfast. Two eggs sunnyside up, hash browns, and two strips of bacon. He continued to look at the menu wondering if this would be the day he added something new. This was also part of the routine. A few seconds of hesitation to see if something else would be added to the order before demuring and saying that would be all. It was the same exact meal that he had ordered every day for the past two years.

She glanced up into the sky to watch the clouds taking shape. First, she saw a dog. Next, it was an elephant. Finally, she saw a giant umbrella and at that moment the rain began to pour.

Matt told her to reach for the stars, but Veronica thought it was the most ridiculous advice she'd ever received. Sure, it had been well-meaning when he said it, but she didn't understand why anyone would want to suggest something that would literally kill you if you actually managed to achieve it.

It wasn't that he hated her. It was simply that he didn't like her much. It was difficult for him to explain this to her, and even more difficult for her to truly understand. She was in love and wanted him to feel the same way. He didn't, and no matter how he tried to explain to her she refused to listen or to understand.

The light was out on the front porch of the house. This was strange. Judy couldn't remember a time when she had ever seen it out. She hopped out of her car and walked to the door. It was slightly ajar and she knew this meant something terrible. She gently pushed the door open and hall her fears were realized. "Surprise! Happy Birthday!" everyone shouted.

The robot clicked disapprovingly, gurgled briefly inside its cubical interior and extruded a pony glass of brownish liquid. "Sir, you will undoubtedly end up in a drunkard's grave, dead of hepatic cirrhosis," it informed me virtuously as it returned my ID card. I glared as I pushed the glass across the table.

The headache wouldn't go away. She's taken medicine but even that didn't help. The monstrous throbbing in her head continued. She had this happen to her only once before in her life and she realized that only one thing could be happening.

The tree missed the days the kids used to come by and play. It still wore the tire swing the kids had put up in its branches years ago although both the tire and the rope had seen better days. The tree had watched all the kids in the neighborhood grow up and leave, and it wondered if there would ever be a time when another child played and laughed again under its branches. That was the hope that the tree wished every day as the swing gently swung empty in the wind.

"It's never good to give them details," Janice told her sister. "Always be a little vague and keep them guessing." Her sister listened intently and nodded in agreement. She didn't fully understand what her sister was saying but that didn't matter. She loved her so much that she would have agreed to whatever came out of her mouth.

It was a concerning development that he couldn't get out of his mind. He'd had many friends throughout his early years and had fond memories of playing with them, but he couldn't understand how it had all stopped. There was some point as he grew up that he played with each of his friends for the very last time, and he had no idea that it would be the last.

He dropped the ball. While most people would think that this was a metaphor of some type, in Joe's case it was absolutely literal. He had hopes of reaching the Major League and that dream was now it great jeopardy. All because he had dropped the ball.

Lori lived her life through the lens of a camera. She never realized this until this very moment as she scrolled through thousands of images on your computer. She could remember the exact moment each photo was taken. She could remember where she had been, what she was thinking as she tried to get the shot, the smells of the surrounding area, and even the emotions that she felt taking the photo, yet she had trouble remembering what she had for breakfast.

"What is the best way to get what you want?" she asked. He looked down at the ground knowing that she wouldn't like his answer. He hesitated, knowing that the truth would only hurt. How was he going to tell her that the best way for him to get what he wanted was to leave her?

She has seen this scene before. It had come to her in dreams many times before. She had to pinch herself to make sure it wasn't a dream again. As her fingers squeezed against her arm, she felt the pain. It was this pain that immediately woke her up.

It really doesn't matter what she thinks as it isn't her problem to solve. That's what he kept trying to convince himself. She was trying to insert her opinion where it wasn't wanted or welcome. He already had a plan and even though that plan didn't correspond with what she wanted him to do or what should be done, it wasn't her decision to make. The question now became whether he would stick to his convictions and go through with his plan knowing she wouldn't approve.

She sat deep in thought. The next word that came out o her mouth would likely be the most important word of her life. It had to be exact with no possibility of being misinterpreted. She was ready. She looked deeply into his eyes and said, "Octopus."

The red line moved across the page. With each millimeter it advanced forward, something changed in the room. The actual change taking place was difficult to perceive, but the change was real. The red line continued relentlessly across the page and the room would never be the same.

They had always called it the green river. It made sense. The river was green. The river likely had a different official name, but to everyone in town, it was and had always been the green river. So it was with great surprise that on this day the green river was a fluorescent pink.

The rain and wind abruptly stopped, but the sky still had the gray swirls of storms in the distance. Dave knew this feeling all too well. The calm before the storm. He only had a limited amount of time before all Hell broke loose, but he stopped to admire the calmness. Maybe it would be different this time, he thought, with the knowledge deep within that it wouldn't.

The light blinded him. It was dark and he thought he was the only one in the area, but the light shining in his eyes proved him wrong. It came from about 100 feet away and was shining so directly into his eyes he couldn't make out anything about the person holding the light. There was only one thing to do in this situation. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flashlight of his own that was much stronger than the one currently blinding him. He turned it on and pointed it into the stranger's eyes.

There was no time. He ran out of the door without half the stuff he needed for work, but it didn't matter. He was late and if he didn't make this meeting on time, someone's life may be in danger.

Where do they get a random paragraph?" he wondered as he clicked the generate button. Do they just write a random paragraph or do they get it somewhere? At that moment he read the random paragraph and realized it was about random paragraphs and his world would never be the same.

After hunting for several hours, we finally saw a large seal sunning itself on a flat rock. I took one of the wooden clubs while Larry took the longer one. We slowly snuck up behind the seal until we were close enough to club it over its head. The seal slumped over and died. This seal would help us survive. We could eat the meat and fat. The fat could be burned in a shell for light and the fur could be used to make a blanket. We declared our first day of hunting a great success.

Samantha wanted to be famous. The problem was that she had never considered all the downsides to actually being famous. Had she taken the time to objectively consider these downsides, she would have never agreed to publically sing that first song.

It was a weird concept. Why would I really need to generate a random paragraph? Could I actually learn something from doing so? All these questions were running through her head as she pressed the generate button. To her surprise, she found what she least expected to see.

It was just a burger. Why couldn't she understand that? She knew he'd completely changed his life around her eating habits, so why couldn't she give him a break this one time? She wasn't even supposed to have found out. Yes, he had promised her and yes, he had broken that promise, but still in his mind, all it had been was just a burger.

She nervously peered over the edge. She understood in her mind that the view was supposed to be beautiful, but all she felt was fear. There had always been something about heights that disturbed her, and now she could feel the full force of this unease. She reluctantly crept a little closer with the encouragement of her friends as the fear continued to build. She couldn't help but feel that something horrible was about to happen.

Things aren't going well at all with mom today. She is just a limp noodle and wants to sleep all the time. I sure hope that things get better soon.

The red glow of tail lights indicating another long drive home from work after an even longer 24-hour shift at the hospital. The shift hadn't been horrible but the constant stream of patients entering the ER meant there was no downtime. She had some of the "regulars" in tonight with new ailments they were sure were going to kill them. It's amazing what a couple of Tylenol and a physical exam from the doctor did to eliminate their pain, nausea, headache, or whatever other mild symptoms they had. Sometimes she wondered if all they really needed was some interaction with others and a bit of the individual attention they received from the nurses.

It really shouldn't have mattered to Betty. That's what she kept trying to convince herself even if she knew it mattered to Betty more than practically anything else. Why was she trying to convince herself otherwise? As she stepped forward to knock on Betty's door, she still didn't have a convincing answer to this question that she'd been asking herself for more than two years now.

They had no proof. He knew that they knew he had done it but they didn't have any proof. It was a huge distinction and it was the difference between him keeping his freedom or being locked away for decades. They continued to question him, probing him for information that they could use against him or find the proof they needed to put him away. He smiled and continued to block their every inquiry by feigning his innocence for a crime they all knew he committed.

Her hand was balled into a fist with her keys protruding out from between her fingers. This was the weapon her father had shown her how to make when she walked alone to her car after work. She wished that she had something a little more potent than keys between her fingers. It would have been nice to have some mace or pepper spray. He had been meaning to buy some but had never gotten around to it. As the mother bear took another step forward with her cubs in tow, she knew her fist with keys wasn't going to be an adequate defense for this situation.

Here's the thing. She doesn't have anything to prove, but she is going to anyway. That's just her character. She knows she doesn't have to, but she still will just to show you that she can. Doubt her more and she'll prove she can again. We all already know this and you will too.

There once lived an old man and an old woman who were peasants and had to work hard to earn their daily bread. The old man used to go to fix fences and do other odd jobs for the farmers around, and while he was gone the old woman, his wife, did the work of the house and worked in their own little plot of land.

One can cook on and with an open fire. These are some of the ways to cook with fire outside. Cooking meat using a spit is a great way to evenly cook meat. In order to keep meat from burning, it's best to slowly rotate it. Hot stones can be used to toast bread. Coals are hot and can bring things to a boil quickly. If one is very adventurous, one can make a hole in the ground, fill it with coals and place foil-covered meat, veggies, and potatoes into the coals, and cover all of it with dirt. In a short period of time, the food will be baked. Campfire cooking can be done in many ways.

Sometimes that's just the way it has to be. Sure, there were probably other options, but he didn't let them enter his mind. It was done and that was that. It was just the way it had to be.

There wasn't a bird in the sky, but that was not what caught her attention. It was the clouds. The deep green that isn't the color of clouds, but came with these. She knew what was coming and she hoped she was prepared.

It was their first date and she had been looking forward to it the entire week. She had her eyes on him for months, and it had taken a convoluted scheme with several friends to make it happen, but he'd finally taken the hint and asked her out. After all the time and effort she'd invested into it, she never thought that it would be anything but wonderful. It goes without saying that things didn't work out quite as she expected.

There wasn't a whole lot more that could be done. It had become a wait-and-see situation with the final results no longer in her control. That didn't stop her from trying to control the situation. She demanded that things be done as she desperately tried to control what couldn't be.

You know that tingly feeling you get on the back of your neck sometimes? I just got that feeling when talking with her. You know I don't believe in sixth senses, but there is something not right with her. I don't know how I know, but I just do.

It was a scrape that he hardly noticed. Sure, there was a bit of blood but it was minor compared to most of the other cuts and bruises he acquired on his adventures. There was no way he could know that the rock that produced the cut had alien genetic material on it that was now racing through his bloodstream. He felt perfectly normal and continued his adventure with no knowledge of what was about to happen to him.

The house was located at the top of the hill at the end of a winding road. It wasn't obvious that the house was there, but everyone in town knew that it existed. They were just all too afraid to ever go and see it in person.

The box sat on the desk next to the computer. It had arrived earlier in the day and business had interrupted her opening it earlier. She didn't who had sent it and briefly wondered who it might have been. As she began to unwrap it, she had no idea that opening it would completely change her life.

Twenty seconds were all that was left and Richard could hear each one tick by. Fifteen seconds now remained and the panic began to fully set in. Ten seconds and he wasn't sure he had enough time. Five seconds, four, three, two, one...

Although Scott said it didn't matter to him, he knew deep inside that it did. They had been friends as long as he could remember and not once had he had to protest that something Joe apologized for doing didn't really matter. Scott stuck to his lie and insisted again and again that everything was fine as Joe continued to apologize. Scott already knew that despite his words accepting the apologies that their friendship would never be the same.

Indescribable oppression, which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar part of her consciousness, filled her whole being with a vague anguish. It was like a shadow, like a mist passing across her soul's summer day. It was strange and unfamiliar; it was a mood. She did not sit there inwardly upbraiding her husband, lamenting at Fate, which had directed her footsteps to the path which they had taken. She was just having a good cry all to herself. The mosquitoes made merry over her, biting her firm, round arms and nipping at her bare insteps.

Time is all relative based on age and experience. When you are a child an hour is a long time to wait but a very short time when that's all the time you are allowed on your iPad. As a teenager time goes faster the more deadlines you have and the more you procrastinate. As a young adult, you think you have forever to live and don't appreciate the time you spend with others. As a middle-aged adult, time flies by as you watch your children grow up. And finally, as you get old and you have fewer responsibilities and fewer demands on you, time slows. You appreciate each day and are thankful you are alive. An hour is the same amount of time for everyone yet it can feel so different in how it goes by.

The leather jacked showed the scars of being his favorite for years. It wore those scars with pride, feeling that they enhanced his presence rather than diminishing it. The scars gave it character and had not overwhelmed to the point that it had become ratty. The jacket was in its prime and it knew it.

Do you really listen when you are talking with someone? I have a friend who listens in an unforgiving way. She actually takes every word you say as being something important and when you have a friend that listens like that, words take on a whole new meaning

e. There were two choices for every situation and you had to choose one of them. It was therefore terribly uncomfortable for him to spend time with Ashley. She saw the world in shades of gray with hundreds of choices to choose from in every situation.

He ordered his regular breakfast. Two eggs sunnyside up, hash browns, and two strips of bacon. He continued to look at the menu wondering if this would be the day he added something new. This was also part of the routine. A few seconds of hesitation to see if something else would be added to the order before demuring and saying that would be all. It was the same exact meal that he had ordered every day for the past two years.

She glanced up into the sky to watch the clouds taking shape. First, she saw a dog. Next, it was an elephant. Finally, she saw a giant umbrella and at that moment the rain began to pour.

Matt told her to reach for the stars, but Veronica thought it was the most ridiculous advice she'd ever received. Sure, it had been well-meaning when he said it, but she didn't understand why anyone would want to suggest something that would literally kill you if you actually managed to achieve it.

It wasn't that he hated her. It was simply that he didn't like her much. It was difficult for him to explain this to her, and even more difficult for her to truly understand. She was in love and wanted him to feel the same way. He didn't, and no matter how he tried to explain to her she refused to listen or to understand.

The light was out on the front porch of the house. This was strange. Judy couldn't remember a time when she had ever seen it out. She hopped out of her car and walked to the door. It was slightly ajar and she knew this meant something terrible. She gently pushed the door open and hall her fears were realized. "Surprise! Happy Birthday!" everyone shouted.

The robot clicked disapprovingly, gurgled briefly inside its cubical interior and extruded a pony glass of brownish liquid. "Sir, you will undoubtedly end up in a drunkard's grave, dead of hepatic cirrhosis," it informed me virtuously as it returned my ID card. I glared as I pushed the glass across the table.

The headache wouldn't go away. She's taken medicine but even that didn't help. The monstrous throbbing in her head continued. She had this happen to her only once before in her life and she realized that only one thing could be happening.

The tree missed the days the kids used to come by and play. It still wore the tire swing the kids had put up in its branches years ago although both the tire and the rope had seen better days. The tree had watched all the kids in the neighborhood grow up and leave, and it wondered if there would ever be a time when another child played and laughed again under its branches. That was the hope that the tree wished every day as the swing gently swung empty in the wind.

"It's never good to give them details," Janice told her sister. "Always be a little vague and keep them guessing." Her sister listened intently and nodded in agreement. She didn't fully understand what her sister was saying but that didn't matter. She loved her so much that she would have agreed to whatever came out of her mouth.

It was a concerning development that he couldn't get out of his mind. He'd had many friends throughout his early years and had fond memories of playing with them, but he couldn't understand how it had all stopped. There was some point as he grew up that he played with each of his friends for the very last time, and he had no idea that it would be the last.

He dropped the ball. While most people would think that this was a metaphor of some type, in Joe's case it was absolutely literal. He had hopes of reaching the Major League and that dream was now it great jeopardy. All because he had dropped the ball.

Lori lived her life through the lens of a camera. She never realized this until this very moment as she scrolled through thousands of images on your computer. She could remember the exact moment each photo was taken. She could remember where she had been, what she was thinking as she tried to get the shot, the smells of the surrounding area, and even the emotions that she felt taking the photo, yet she had trouble remembering what she had for breakfast.

"What is the best way to get what you want?" she asked. He looked down at the ground knowing that she wouldn't like his answer. He hesitated, knowing that the truth would only hurt. How was he going to tell her that the best way for him to get what he wanted was to leave her?

She has seen this scene before. It had come to her in dreams many times before. She had to pinch herself to make sure it wasn't a dream again. As her fingers squeezed against her arm, she felt the pain. It was this pain that immediately woke her up.

It really doesn't matter what she thinks as it isn't her problem to solve. That's what he kept trying to convince himself. She was trying to insert her opinion where it wasn't wanted or welcome. He already had a plan and even though that plan didn't correspond with what she wanted him to do or what should be done, it wasn't her decision to make. The question now became whether he would stick to his convictions and go through with his plan knowing she wouldn't approve.

She sat deep in thought. The next word that came out o her mouth would likely be the most important word of her life. It had to be exact with no possibility of being misinterpreted. She was ready. She looked deeply into his eyes and said, "Octopus."

The red line moved across the page. With each millimeter it advanced forward, something changed in the room. The actual change taking place was difficult to perceive, but the change was real. The red line continued relentlessly across the page and the room would never be the same.

They had always called it the green river. It made sense. The river was green. The river likely had a different official name, but to everyone in town, it was and had always been the green river. So it was with great surprise that on this day the green river was a fluorescent pink.

The rain and wind abruptly stopped, but the sky still had the gray swirls of storms in the distance. Dave knew this feeling all too well. The calm before the storm. He only had a limited amount of time before all Hell broke loose, but he stopped to admire the calmness. Maybe it would be different this time, he thought, with the knowledge deep within that it wouldn't.

The light blinded him. It was dark and he thought he was the only one in the area, but the light shining in his eyes proved him wrong. It came from about 100 feet away and was shining so directly into his eyes he couldn't make out anything about the person holding the light. There was only one thing to do in this situation. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flashlight of his own that was much stronger than the one currently blinding him. He turned it on and pointed it into the stranger's eyes.

There was no time. He ran out of the door without half the stuff he needed for work, but it didn't matter. He was late and if he didn't make this meeting on time, someone's life may be in danger.

Where do they get a random paragraph?" he wondered as he clicked the generate button. Do they just write a random paragraph or do they get it somewhere? At that moment he read the random paragraph and realized it was about random paragraphs and his world would never be the same.

After hunting for several hours, we finally saw a large seal sunning itself on a flat rock. I took one of the wooden clubs while Larry took the longer one. We slowly snuck up behind the seal until we were close enough to club it over its head. The seal slumped over and died. This seal would help us survive. We could eat the meat and fat. The fat could be burned in a shell for light and the fur could be used to make a blanket. We declared our first day of hunting a great success.

Samantha wanted to be famous. The problem was that she had never considered all the downsides to actually being famous. Had she taken the time to objectively consider these downsides, she would have never agreed to publically sing that first song.

It was a weird concept. Why would I really need to generate a random paragraph? Could I actually learn something from doing so? All these questions were running through her head as she pressed the generate button. To her surprise, she found what she least expected to see.

It was just a burger. Why couldn't she understand that? She knew he'd completely changed his life around her eating habits, so why couldn't she give him a break this one time? She wasn't even supposed to have found out. Yes, he had promised her and yes, he had broken that promise, but still in his mind, all it had been was just a burger.

She nervously peered over the edge. She understood in her mind that the view was supposed to be beautiful, but all she felt was fear. There had always been something about heights that disturbed her, and now she could feel the full force of this unease. She reluctantly crept a little closer with the encouragement of her friends as the fear continued to build. She couldn't help but feel that something horrible was about to happen.

Things aren't going well at all with mom today. She is just a limp noodle and wants to sleep all the time. I sure hope that things get better soon.

The red glow of tail lights indicating another long drive home from work after an even longer 24-hour shift at the hospital. The shift hadn't been horrible but the constant stream of patients entering the ER meant there was no downtime. She had some of the "regulars" in tonight with new ailments they were sure were going to kill them. It's amazing what a couple of Tylenol and a physical exam from the doctor did to eliminate their pain, nausea, headache, or whatever other mild symptoms they had. Sometimes she wondered if all they really needed was some interaction with others and a bit of the individual attention they received from the nurses.

It really shouldn't have mattered to Betty. That's what she kept trying to convince herself even if she knew it mattered to Betty more than practically anything else. Why was she trying to convince herself otherwise? As she stepped forward to knock on Betty's door, she still didn't have a convincing answer to this question that she'd been asking herself for more than two years now.

They had no proof. He knew that they knew he had done it but they didn't have any proof. It was a huge distinction and it was the difference between him keeping his freedom or being locked away for decades. They continued to question him, probing him for information that they could use against him or find the proof they needed to put him away. He smiled and continued to block their every inquiry by feigning his innocence for a crime they all knew he committed.

Her hand was balled into a fist with her keys protruding out from between her fingers. This was the weapon her father had shown her how to make when she walked alone to her car after work. She wished that she had something a little more potent than keys between her fingers. It would have been nice to have some mace or pepper spray. He had been meaning to buy some but had never gotten around to it. As the mother bear took another step forward with her cubs in tow, she knew her fist with keys wasn't going to be an adequate defense for this situation.

Here's the thing. She doesn't have anything to prove, but she is going to anyway. That's just her character. She knows she doesn't have to, but she still will just to show you that she can. Doubt her more and she'll prove she can again. We all already know this and you will too.

There once lived an old man and an old woman who were peasants and had to work hard to earn their daily bread. The old man used to go to fix fences and do other odd jobs for the farmers around, and while he was gone the old woman, his wife, did the work of the house and worked in their own little plot of land.

One can cook on and with an open fire. These are some of the ways to cook with fire outside. Cooking meat using a spit is a great way to evenly cook meat. In order to keep meat from burning, it's best to slowly rotate it. Hot stones can be used to toast bread. Coals are hot and can bring things to a boil quickly. If one is very adventurous, one can make a hole in the ground, fill it with coals and place foil-covered meat, veggies, and potatoes into the coals, and cover all of it with dirt. In a short period of time, the food will be baked. Campfire cooking can be done in many ways.

Sometimes that's just the way it has to be. Sure, there were probably other options, but he didn't let them enter his mind. It was done and that was that. It was just the way it had to be.

There wasn't a bird in the sky, but that was not what caught her attention. It was the clouds. The deep green that isn't the color of clouds, but came with these. She knew what was coming and she hoped she was prepared.

It was their first date and she had been looking forward to it the entire week. She had her eyes on him for months, and it had taken a convoluted scheme with several friends to make it happen, but he'd finally taken the hint and asked her out. After all the time and effort she'd invested into it, she never thought that it would be anything but wonderful. It goes without saying that things didn't work out quite as she expected.

There wasn't a whole lot more that could be done. It had become a wait-and-see situation with the final results no longer in her control. That didn't stop her from trying to control the situation. She demanded that things be done as she desperately tried to control what couldn't be.

You know that tingly feeling you get on the back of your neck sometimes? I just got that feeling when talking with her. You know I don't believe in sixth senses, but there is something not right with her. I don't know how I know, but I just do.

It was a scrape that he hardly noticed. Sure, there was a bit of blood but it was minor compared to most of the other cuts and bruises he acquired on his adventures. There was no way he could know that the rock that produced the cut had alien genetic material on it that was now racing through his bloodstream. He felt perfectly normal and continued his adventure with no knowledge of what was about to happen to him.

The house was located at the top of the hill at the end of a winding road. It wasn't obvious that the house was there, but everyone in town knew that it existed. They were just all too afraid to ever go and see it in person.

The box sat on the desk next to the computer. It had arrived earlier in the day and business had interrupted her opening it earlier. She didn't who had sent it and briefly wondered who it might have been. As she began to unwrap it, she had no idea that opening it would completely change her life.

Twenty seconds were all that was left and Richard could hear each one tick by. Fifteen seconds now remained and the panic began to fully set in. Ten seconds and he wasn't sure he had enough time. Five seconds, four, three, two, one...

Although Scott said it didn't matter to him, he knew deep inside that it did. They had been friends as long as he could remember and not once had he had to protest that something Joe apologized for doing didn't really matter. Scott stuck to his lie and insisted again and again that everything was fine as Joe continued to apologize. Scott already knew that despite his words accepting the apologies that their friendship would never be the same.

Indescribable oppression, which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar part of her consciousness, filled her whole being with a vague anguish. It was like a shadow, like a mist passing across her soul's summer day. It was strange and unfamiliar; it was a mood. She did not sit there inwardly upbraiding her husband, lamenting at Fate, which had directed her footsteps to the path which they had taken. She was just having a good cry all to herself. The mosquitoes made merry over her, biting her firm, round arms and nipping at her bare insteps.

Time is all relative based on age and experience. When you are a child an hour is a long time to wait but a very short time when that's all the time you are allowed on your iPad. As a teenager time goes faster the more deadlines you have and the more you procrastinate. As a young adult, you think you have forever to live and don't appreciate the time you spend with others. As a middle-aged adult, time flies by as you watch your children grow up. And finally, as you get old and you have fewer responsibilities and fewer demands on you, time slows. You appreciate each day and are thankful you are alive. An hour is the same amount of time for everyone yet it can feel so different in how it goes by.

The leather jacked showed the scars of being his favorite for years. It wore those scars with pride, feeling that they enhanced his presence rather than diminishing it. The scars gave it character and had not overwhelmed to the point that it had become ratty. The jacket was in its prime and it knew it.

Do you really listen when you are talking with someone? I have a friend who listens in an unforgiving way. She actually takes every word you say as being something important and when you have a friend that listens like that, words take on a whole new meaning

e. There were two choices for every situation and you had to choose one of them. It was therefore terribly uncomfortable for him to spend time with Ashley. She saw the world in shades of gray with hundreds of choices to choose from in every situation.

He ordered his regular breakfast. Two eggs sunnyside up, hash browns, and two strips of bacon. He continued to look at the menu wondering if this would be the day he added something new. This was also part of the routine. A few seconds of hesitation to see if something else would be added to the order before demuring and saying that would be all. It was the same exact meal that he had ordered every day for the past two years.

She glanced up into the sky to watch the clouds taking shape. First, she saw a dog. Next, it was an elephant. Finally, she saw a giant umbrella and at that moment the rain began to pour.

Matt told her to reach for the stars, but Veronica thought it was the most ridiculous advice she'd ever received. Sure, it had been well-meaning when he said it, but she didn't understand why anyone would want to suggest something that would literally kill you if you actually managed to achieve it.

It wasn't that he hated her. It was simply that he didn't like her much. It was difficult for him to explain this to her, and even more difficult for her to truly understand. She was in love and wanted him to feel the same way. He didn't, and no matter how he tried to explain to her she refused to listen or to understand.

The light was out on the front porch of the house. This was strange. Judy couldn't remember a time when she had ever seen it out. She hopped out of her car and walked to the door. It was slightly ajar and she knew this meant something terrible. She gently pushed the door open and hall her fears were realized. "Surprise! Happy Birthday!" everyone shouted.

The robot clicked disapprovingly, gurgled briefly inside its cubical interior and extruded a pony glass of brownish liquid. "Sir, you will undoubtedly end up in a drunkard's grave, dead of hepatic cirrhosis," it informed me virtuously as it returned my ID card. I glared as I pushed the glass across the table.

The headache wouldn't go away. She's taken medicine but even that didn't help. The monstrous throbbing in her head continued. She had this happen to her only once before in her life and she realized that only one thing could be happening.

The tree missed the days the kids used to come by and play. It still wore the tire swing the kids had put up in its branches years ago although both the tire and the rope had seen better days. The tree had watched all the kids in the neighborhood grow up and leave, and it wondered if there would ever be a time when another child played and laughed again under its branches. That was the hope that the tree wished every day as the swing gently swung empty in the wind.

"It's never good to give them details," Janice told her sister. "Always be a little vague and keep them guessing." Her sister listened intently and nodded in agreement. She didn't fully understand what her sister was saying but that didn't matter. She loved her so much that she would have agreed to whatever came out of her mouth.

It was a concerning development that he couldn't get out of his mind. He'd had many friends throughout his early years and had fond memories of playing with them, but he couldn't understand how it had all stopped. There was some point as he grew up that he played with each of his friends for the very last time, and he had no idea that it would be the last.

He dropped the ball. While most people would think that this was a metaphor of some type, in Joe's case it was absolutely literal. He had hopes of reaching the Major League and that dream was now it great jeopardy. All because he had dropped the ball.

Lori lived her life through the lens of a camera. She never realized this until this very moment as she scrolled through thousands of images on your computer. She could remember the exact moment each photo was taken. She could remember where she had been, what she was thinking as she tried to get the shot, the smells of the surrounding area, and even the emotions that she felt taking the photo, yet she had trouble remembering what she had for breakfast.

"What is the best way to get what you want?" she asked. He looked down at the ground knowing that she wouldn't like his answer. He hesitated, knowing that the truth would only hurt. How was he going to tell her that the best way for him to get what he wanted was to leave her?

She has seen this scene before. It had come to her in dreams many times before. She had to pinch herself to make sure it wasn't a dream again. As her fingers squeezed against her arm, she felt the pain. It was this pain that immediately woke her up.

It really doesn't matter what she thinks as it isn't her problem to solve. That's what he kept trying to convince himself. She was trying to insert her opinion where it wasn't wanted or welcome. He already had a plan and even though that plan didn't correspond with what she wanted him to do or what should be done, it wasn't her decision to make. The question now became whether he would stick to his convictions and go through with his plan knowing she wouldn't approve.

She sat deep in thought. The next word that came out o her mouth would likely be the most important word of her life. It had to be exact with no possibility of being misinterpreted. She was ready. She looked deeply into his eyes and said, "Octopus."

The red line moved across the page. With each millimeter it advanced forward, something changed in the room. The actual change taking place was difficult to perceive, but the change was real. The red line continued relentlessly across the page and the room would never be the same.

They had always called it the green river. It made sense. The river was green. The river likely had a different official name, but to everyone in town, it was and had always been the green river. So it was with great surprise that on this day the green river was a fluorescent pink.

The rain and wind abruptly stopped, but the sky still had the gray swirls of storms in the distance. Dave knew this feeling all too well. The calm before the storm. He only had a limited amount of time before all Hell broke loose, but he stopped to admire the calmness. Maybe it would be different this time, he thought, with the knowledge deep within that it wouldn't.

The light blinded him. It was dark and he thought he was the only one in the area, but the light shining in his eyes proved him wrong. It came from about 100 feet away and was shining so directly into his eyes he couldn't make out anything about the person holding the light. There was only one thing to do in this situation. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flashlight of his own that was much stronger than the one currently blinding him. He turned it on and pointed it into the stranger's eyes.

There was no time. He ran out of the door without half the stuff he needed for work, but it didn't matter. He was late and if he didn't make this meeting on time, someone's life may be in danger.

Where do they get a random paragraph?" he wondered as he clicked the generate button. Do they just write a random paragraph or do they get it somewhere? At that moment he read the random paragraph and realized it was about random paragraphs and his world would never be the same.

After hunting for several hours, we finally saw a large seal sunning itself on a flat rock. I took one of the wooden clubs while Larry took the longer one. We slowly snuck up behind the seal until we were close enough to club it over its head. The seal slumped over and died. This seal would help us survive. We could eat the meat and fat. The fat could be burned in a shell for light and the fur could be used to make a blanket. We declared our first day of hunting a great success.

Samantha wanted to be famous. The problem was that she had never considered all the downsides to actually being famous. Had she taken the time to objectively consider these downsides, she would have never agreed to publically sing that first song.

It was a weird concept. Why would I really need to generate a random paragraph? Could I actually learn something from doing so? All these questions were running through her head as she pressed the generate button. To her surprise, she found what she least expected to see.

It was just a burger. Why couldn't she understand that? She knew he'd completely changed his life around her eating habits, so why couldn't she give him a break this one time? She wasn't even supposed to have found out. Yes, he had promised her and yes, he had broken that promise, but still in his mind, all it had been was just a burger.

She nervously peered over the edge. She understood in her mind that the view was supposed to be beautiful, but all she felt was fear. There had always been something about heights that disturbed her, and now she could feel the full force of this unease. She reluctantly crept a little closer with the encouragement of her friends as the fear continued to build. She couldn't help but feel that something horrible was about to happen.

Things aren't going well at all with mom today. She is just a limp noodle and wants to sleep all the time. I sure hope that things get better soon.

The red glow of tail lights indicating another long drive home from work after an even longer 24-hour shift at the hospital. The shift hadn't been horrible but the constant stream of patients entering the ER meant there was no downtime. She had some of the "regulars" in tonight with new ailments they were sure were going to kill them. It's amazing what a couple of Tylenol and a physical exam from the doctor did to eliminate their pain, nausea, headache, or whatever other mild symptoms they had. Sometimes she wondered if all they really needed was some interaction with others and a bit of the individual attention they received from the nurses.

It really shouldn't have mattered to Betty. That's what she kept trying to convince herself even if she knew it mattered to Betty more than practically anything else. Why was she trying to convince herself otherwise? As she stepped forward to knock on Betty's door, she still didn't have a convincing answer to this question that she'd been asking herself for more than two years now.

They had no proof. He knew that they knew he had done it but they didn't have any proof. It was a huge distinction and it was the difference between him keeping his freedom or being locked away for decades. They continued to question him, probing him for information that they could use against him or find the proof they needed to put him away. He smiled and continued to block their every inquiry by feigning his innocence for a crime they all knew he committed.

Her hand was balled into a fist with her keys protruding out from between her fingers. This was the weapon her father had shown her how to make when she walked alone to her car after work. She wished that she had something a little more potent than keys between her fingers. It would have been nice to have some mace or pepper spray. He had been meaning to buy some but had never gotten around to it. As the mother bear took another step forward with her cubs in tow, she knew her fist with keys wasn't going to be an adequate defense for this situation.

Here's the thing. She doesn't have anything to prove, but she is going to anyway. That's just her character. She knows she doesn't have to, but she still will just to show you that she can. Doubt her more and she'll prove she can again. We all already know this and you will too.

There once lived an old man and an old woman who were peasants and had to work hard to earn their daily bread. The old man used to go to fix fences and do other odd jobs for the farmers around, and while he was gone the old woman, his wife, did the work of the house and worked in their own little plot of land.

One can cook on and with an open fire. These are some of the ways to cook with fire outside. Cooking meat using a spit is a great way to evenly cook meat. In order to keep meat from burning, it's best to slowly rotate it. Hot stones can be used to toast bread. Coals are hot and can bring things to a boil quickly. If one is very adventurous, one can make a hole in the ground, fill it with coals and place foil-covered meat, veggies, and potatoes into the coals, and cover all of it with dirt. In a short period of time, the food will be baked. Campfire cooking can be done in many ways.

Sometimes that's just the way it has to be. Sure, there were probably other options, but he didn't let them enter his mind. It was done and that was that. It was just the way it had to be.

There wasn't a bird in the sky, but that was not what caught her attention. It was the clouds. The deep green that isn't the color of clouds, but came with these. She knew what was coming and she hoped she was prepared.

It was their first date and she had been looking forward to it the entire week. She had her eyes on him for months, and it had taken a convoluted scheme with several friends to make it happen, but he'd finally taken the hint and asked her out. After all the time and effort she'd invested into it, she never thought that it would be anything but wonderful. It goes without saying that things didn't work out quite as she expected.

There wasn't a whole lot more that could be done. It had become a wait-and-see situation with the final results no longer in her control. That didn't stop her from trying to control the situation. She demanded that things be done as she desperately tried to control what couldn't be.

You know that tingly feeling you get on the back of your neck sometimes? I just got that feeling when talking with her. You know I don't believe in sixth senses, but there is something not right with her. I don't know how I know, but I just do.

It was a scrape that he hardly noticed. Sure, there was a bit of blood but it was minor compared to most of the other cuts and bruises he acquired on his adventures. There was no way he could know that the rock that produced the cut had alien genetic material on it that was now racing through his bloodstream. He felt perfectly normal and continued his adventure with no knowledge of what was about to happen to him.

The house was located at the top of the hill at the end of a winding road. It wasn't obvious that the house was there, but everyone in town knew that it existed. They were just all too afraid to ever go and see it in person.

The box sat on the desk next to the computer. It had arrived earlier in the day and business had interrupted her opening it earlier. She didn't who had sent it and briefly wondered who it might have been. As she began to unwrap it, she had no idea that opening it would completely change her life.

Twenty seconds were all that was left and Richard could hear each one tick by. Fifteen seconds now remained and the panic began to fully set in. Ten seconds and he wasn't sure he had enough time. Five seconds, four, three, two, one...

Although Scott said it didn't matter to him, he knew deep inside that it did. They had been friends as long as he could remember and not once had he had to protest that something Joe apologized for doing didn't really matter. Scott stuck to his lie and insisted again and again that everything was fine as Joe continued to apologize. Scott already knew that despite his words accepting the apologies that their friendship would never be the same.

Indescribable oppression, which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar part of her consciousness, filled her whole being with a vague anguish. It was like a shadow, like a mist passing across her soul's summer day. It was strange and unfamiliar; it was a mood. She did not sit there inwardly upbraiding her husband, lamenting at Fate, which had directed her footsteps to the path which they had taken. She was just having a good cry all to herself. The mosquitoes made merry over her, biting her firm, round arms and nipping at her bare insteps.

Time is all relative based on age and experience. When you are a child an hour is a long time to wait but a very short time when that's all the time you are allowed on your iPad. As a teenager time goes faster the more deadlines you have and the more you procrastinate. As a young adult, you think you have forever to live and don't appreciate the time you spend with others. As a middle-aged adult, time flies by as you watch your children grow up. And finally, as you get old and you have fewer responsibilities and fewer demands on you, time slows. You appreciate each day and are thankful you are alive. An hour is the same amount of time for everyone yet it can feel so different in how it goes by.

The leather jacked showed the scars of being his favorite for years. It wore those scars with pride, feeling that they enhanced his presence rather than diminishing it. The scars gave it character and had not overwhelmed to the point that it had become ratty. The jacket was in its prime and it knew it.

Do you really listen when you are talking with someone? I have a friend who listens in an unforgiving way. She actually takes every word you say as being something important and when you have a friend that listens like that, words take on a whole new meaning

e. There were two choices for every situation and you had to choose one of them. It was therefore terribly uncomfortable for him to spend time with Ashley. She saw the world in shades of gray with hundreds of choices to choose from in every situation.

He ordered his regular breakfast. Two eggs sunnyside up, hash browns, and two strips of bacon. He continued to look at the menu wondering if this would be the day he added something new. This was also part of the routine. A few seconds of hesitation to see if something else would be added to the order before demuring and saying that would be all. It was the same exact meal that he had ordered every day for the past two years.

She glanced up into the sky to watch the clouds taking shape. First, she saw a dog. Next, it was an elephant. Finally, she saw a giant umbrella and at that moment the rain began to pour.

Matt told her to reach for the stars, but Veronica thought it was the most ridiculous advice she'd ever received. Sure, it had been well-meaning when he said it, but she didn't understand why anyone would want to suggest something that would literally kill you if you actually managed to achieve it.

It wasn't that he hated her. It was simply that he didn't like her much. It was difficult for him to explain this to her, and even more difficult for her to truly understand. She was in love and wanted him to feel the same way. He didn't, and no matter how he tried to explain to her she refused to listen or to understand.

The light was out on the front porch of the house. This was strange. Judy couldn't remember a time when she had ever seen it out. She hopped out of her car and walked to the door. It was slightly ajar and she knew this meant something terrible. She gently pushed the door open and hall her fears were realized. "Surprise! Happy Birthday!" everyone shouted.

The robot clicked disapprovingly, gurgled briefly inside its cubical interior and extruded a pony glass of brownish liquid. "Sir, you will undoubtedly end up in a drunkard's grave, dead of hepatic cirrhosis," it informed me virtuously as it returned my ID card. I glared as I pushed the glass across the table.

The headache wouldn't go away. She's taken medicine but even that didn't help. The monstrous throbbing in her head continued. She had this happen to her only once before in her life and she realized that only one thing could be happening.

The tree missed the days the kids used to come by and play. It still wore the tire swing the kids had put up in its branches years ago although both the tire and the rope had seen better days. The tree had watched all the kids in the neighborhood grow up and leave, and it wondered if there would ever be a time when another child played and laughed again under its branches. That was the hope that the tree wished every day as the swing gently swung empty in the wind.

"It's never good to give them details," Janice told her sister. "Always be a little vague and keep them guessing." Her sister listened intently and nodded in agreement. She didn't fully understand what her sister was saying but that didn't matter. She loved her so much that she would have agreed to whatever came out of her mouth.

It was a concerning development that he couldn't get out of his mind. He'd had many friends throughout his early years and had fond memories of playing with them, but he couldn't understand how it had all stopped. There was some point as he grew up that he played with each of his friends for the very last time, and he had no idea that it would be the last.

He dropped the ball. While most people would think that this was a metaphor of some type, in Joe's case it was absolutely literal. He had hopes of reaching the Major League and that dream was now it great jeopardy. All because he had dropped the ball.

Lori lived her life through the lens of a camera. She never realized this until this very moment as she scrolled through thousands of images on your computer. She could remember the exact moment each photo was taken. She could remember where she had been, what she was thinking as she tried to get the shot, the smells of the surrounding area, and even the emotions that she felt taking the photo, yet she had trouble remembering what she had for breakfast.

"What is the best way to get what you want?" she asked. He looked down at the ground knowing that she wouldn't like his answer. He hesitated, knowing that the truth would only hurt. How was he going to tell her that the best way for him to get what he wanted was to leave her?

She has seen this scene before. It had come to her in dreams many times before. She had to pinch herself to make sure it wasn't a dream again. As her fingers squeezed against her arm, she felt the pain. It was this pain that immediately woke her up.

It really doesn't matter what she thinks as it isn't her problem to solve. That's what he kept trying to convince himself. She was trying to insert her opinion where it wasn't wanted or welcome. He already had a plan and even though that plan didn't correspond with what she wanted him to do or what should be done, it wasn't her decision to make. The question now became whether he would stick to his convictions and go through with his plan knowing she wouldn't approve.

She sat deep in thought. The next word that came out o her mouth would likely be the most important word of her life. It had to be exact with no possibility of being misinterpreted. She was ready. She looked deeply into his eyes and said, "Octopus."

The red line moved across the page. With each millimeter it advanced forward, something changed in the room. The actual change taking place was difficult to perceive, but the change was real. The red line continued relentlessly across the page and the room would never be the same.

They had always called it the green river. It made sense. The river was green. The river likely had a different official name, but to everyone in town, it was and had always been the green river. So it was with great surprise that on this day the green river was a fluorescent pink.

The rain and wind abruptly stopped, but the sky still had the gray swirls of storms in the distance. Dave knew this feeling all too well. The calm before the storm. He only had a limited amount of time before all Hell broke loose, but he stopped to admire the calmness. Maybe it would be different this time, he thought, with the knowledge deep within that it wouldn't.

The light blinded him. It was dark and he thought he was the only one in the area, but the light shining in his eyes proved him wrong. It came from about 100 feet away and was shining so directly into his eyes he couldn't make out anything about the person holding the light. There was only one thing to do in this situation. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flashlight of his own that was much stronger than the one currently blinding him. He turned it on and pointed it into the stranger's eyes.

There was no time. He ran out of the door without half the stuff he needed for work, but it didn't matter. He was late and if he didn't make this meeting on time, someone's life may be in danger.

Where do they get a random paragraph?" he wondered as he clicked the generate button. Do they just write a random paragraph or do they get it somewhere? At that moment he read the random paragraph and realized it was about random paragraphs and his world would never be the same.

After hunting for several hours, we finally saw a large seal sunning itself on a flat rock. I took one of the wooden clubs while Larry took the longer one. We slowly snuck up behind the seal until we were close enough to club it over its head. The seal slumped over and died. This seal would help us survive. We could eat the meat and fat. The fat could be burned in a shell for light and the fur could be used to make a blanket. We declared our first day of hunting a great success.

Samantha wanted to be famous. The problem was that she had never considered all the downsides to actually being famous. Had she taken the time to objectively consider these downsides, she would have never agreed to publically sing that first song.

It was a weird concept. Why would I really need to generate a random paragraph? Could I actually learn something from doing so? All these questions were running through her head as she pressed the generate button. To her surprise, she found what she least expected to see.

It was just a burger. Why couldn't she understand that? She knew he'd completely changed his life around her eating habits, so why couldn't she give him a break this one time? She wasn't even supposed to have found out. Yes, he had promised her and yes, he had broken that promise, but still in his mind, all it had been was just a burger.

She nervously peered over the edge. She understood in her mind that the view was supposed to be beautiful, but all she felt was fear. There had always been something about heights that disturbed her, and now she could feel the full force of this unease. She reluctantly crept a little closer with the encouragement of her friends as the fear continued to build. She couldn't help but feel that something horrible was about to happen.

Things aren't going well at all with mom today. She is just a limp noodle and wants to sleep all the time. I sure hope that things get better soon.

The red glow of tail lights indicating another long drive home from work after an even longer 24-hour shift at the hospital. The shift hadn't been horrible but the constant stream of patients entering the ER meant there was no downtime. She had some of the "regulars" in tonight with new ailments they were sure were going to kill them. It's amazing what a couple of Tylenol and a physical exam from the doctor did to eliminate their pain, nausea, headache, or whatever other mild symptoms they had. Sometimes she wondered if all they really needed was some interaction with others and a bit of the individual attention they received from the nurses.

It really shouldn't have mattered to Betty. That's what she kept trying to convince herself even if she knew it mattered to Betty more than practically anything else. Why was she trying to convince herself otherwise? As she stepped forward to knock on Betty's door, she still didn't have a convincing answer to this question that she'd been asking herself for more than two years now.

They had no proof. He knew that they knew he had done it but they didn't have any proof. It was a huge distinction and it was the difference between him keeping his freedom or being locked away for decades. They continued to question him, probing him for information that they could use against him or find the proof they needed to put him away. He smiled and continued to block their every inquiry by feigning his innocence for a crime they all knew he committed.

Her hand was balled into a fist with her keys protruding out from between her fingers. This was the weapon her father had shown her how to make when she walked alone to her car after work. She wished that she had something a little more potent than keys between her fingers. It would have been nice to have some mace or pepper spray. He had been meaning to buy some but had never gotten around to it. As the mother bear took another step forward with her cubs in tow, she knew her fist with keys wasn't going to be an adequate defense for this situation.

Here's the thing. She doesn't have anything to prove, but she is going to anyway. That's just her character. She knows she doesn't have to, but she still will just to show you that she can. Doubt her more and she'll prove she can again. We all already know this and you will too.

There once lived an old man and an old woman who were peasants and had to work hard to earn their daily bread. The old man used to go to fix fences and do other odd jobs for the farmers around, and while he was gone the old woman, his wife, did the work of the house and worked in their own little plot of land.

One can cook on and with an open fire. These are some of the ways to cook with fire outside. Cooking meat using a spit is a great way to evenly cook meat. In order to keep meat from burning, it's best to slowly rotate it. Hot stones can be used to toast bread. Coals are hot and can bring things to a boil quickly. If one is very adventurous, one can make a hole in the ground, fill it with coals and place foil-covered meat, veggies, and potatoes into the coals, and cover all of it with dirt. In a short period of time, the food will be baked. Campfire cooking can be done in many ways.

Sometimes that's just the way it has to be. Sure, there were probably other options, but he didn't let them enter his mind. It was done and that was that. It was just the way it had to be.

There wasn't a bird in the sky, but that was not what caught her attention. It was the clouds. The deep green that isn't the color of clouds, but came with these. She knew what was coming and she hoped she was prepared.

It was their first date and she had been looking forward to it the entire week. She had her eyes on him for months, and it had taken a convoluted scheme with several friends to make it happen, but he'd finally taken the hint and asked her out. After all the time and effort she'd invested into it, she never thought that it would be anything but wonderful. It goes without saying that things didn't work out quite as she expected.

There wasn't a whole lot more that could be done. It had become a wait-and-see situation with the final results no longer in her control. That didn't stop her from trying to control the situation. She demanded that things be done as she desperately tried to control what couldn't be.

You know that tingly feeling you get on the back of your neck sometimes? I just got that feeling when talking with her. You know I don't believe in sixth senses, but there is something not right with her. I don't know how I know, but I just do.

It was a scrape that he hardly noticed. Sure, there was a bit of blood but it was minor compared to most of the other cuts and bruises he acquired on his adventures. There was no way he could know that the rock that produced the cut had alien genetic material on it that was now racing through his bloodstream. He felt perfectly normal and continued his adventure with no knowledge of what was about to happen to him.

The house was located at the top of the hill at the end of a winding road. It wasn't obvious that the house was there, but everyone in town knew that it existed. They were just all too afraid to ever go and see it in person.

The box sat on the desk next to the computer. It had arrived earlier in the day and business had interrupted her opening it earlier. She didn't who had sent it and briefly wondered who it might have been. As she began to unwrap it, she had no idea that opening it would completely change her life.

Twenty seconds were all that was left and Richard could hear each one tick by. Fifteen seconds now remained and the panic began to fully set in. Ten seconds and he wasn't sure he had enough time. Five seconds, four, three, two, one...

Although Scott said it didn't matter to him, he knew deep inside that it did. They had been friends as long as he could remember and not once had he had to protest that something Joe apologized for doing didn't really matter. Scott stuck to his lie and insisted again and again that everything was fine as Joe continued to apologize. Scott already knew that despite his words accepting the apologies that their friendship would never be the same.

Indescribable oppression, which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar part of her consciousness, filled her whole being with a vague anguish. It was like a shadow, like a mist passing across her soul's summer day. It was strange and unfamiliar; it was a mood. She did not sit there inwardly upbraiding her husband, lamenting at Fate, which had directed her footsteps to the path which they had taken. She was just having a good cry all to herself. The mosquitoes made merry over her, biting her firm, round arms and nipping at her bare insteps.

Time is all relative based on age and experience. When you are a child an hour is a long time to wait but a very short time when that's all the time you are allowed on your iPad. As a teenager time goes faster the more deadlines you have and the more you procrastinate. As a young adult, you think you have forever to live and don't appreciate the time you spend with others. As a middle-aged adult, time flies by as you watch your children grow up. And finally, as you get old and you have fewer responsibilities and fewer demands on you, time slows. You appreciate each day and are thankful you are alive. An hour is the same amount of time for everyone yet it can feel so different in how it goes by.

The leather jacked showed the scars of being his favorite for years. It wore those scars with pride, feeling that they enhanced his presence rather than diminishing it. The scars gave it character and had not overwhelmed to the point that it had become ratty. The jacket was in its prime and it knew it.

Do you really listen when you are talking with someone? I have a friend who listens in an unforgiving way. She actually takes every word you say as being something important and when you have a friend that listens like that, words take on a whole new meaning