It probably seemed trivial to most people, but it mattered to Tracey. She wasn't sure why it mattered so much to her, but she understood deep within her being that it mattered to her. So for the 365th day in a row, Tracey sat down to eat pancakes for breakfast.
It was difficult for him to admit he was wrong. He had been so certain that he was correct and the deeply held belief could never be shaken. Yet the proof that he had been incorrect stood right before his eyes. "See daddy, I told you that they are real!" his daughter excitedly proclaimed.
All he could think about was how it would all end. There was still a bit of uncertainty in the equation, but the basics were there for anyone to see. No matter how much he tried to see the positive, it wasn't anywhere to be seen. The end was coming and it wasn't going to be pretty.
They had made it to Las Vegas, wide-eyed and with so much hope and energy. They had planned the trip for more than a year and both were so excited they could barely control themselves. They still hadn't realized that Las Vegas promised a place where dreams come true, it was actually the place where dreams came to die.
Out of another, I get a lovely view of the bay and a little private wharf belonging to the estate. There is a beautiful shaded lane that runs down there from the house. I always fancy I see people walking in these numerous paths and arbors, but John has cautioned me not to give way to fancy in the least. He says that with my imaginative power and habit of story-making a nervous weakness like mine is sure to lead to all manner of excited fancies and that I ought to use my will and good sense to check the tendency. So I try.
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.
They rushed out the door, grabbing anything and everything they could think of they might need. There was no time to double-check to make sure they weren't leaving something important behind. Everything was thrown into the car and they sped off. Thirty minutes later they were safe and that was when it dawned on them that they had forgotten the most important thing of all.
There was something in the sky. What exactly was up there wasn't immediately clear. But there was definitely something in the sky and it was getting bigger and bigger.
Debbie knew she was being selfish and unreasonable. She understood why the others in the room were angry and frustrated with her and the way she was acting. In her eyes, it didn't really matter how they felt because she simply didn't care.
Rhonda prided herself on always taking the path less traveled. She'd decided to do this at an early age and had continued to do so throughout her entire life. It was a point of pride and she would explain to anyone who would listen that doing so was something that she'd made great efforts to always do. She'd never questioned this decision until her five-year-old niece asked her, "So, is this why your life has been so difficult?" and Rhonda didn't have an answer for her.
There were a variety of ways to win the game. James had played it long enough to know most of them and he could see what his opponent was trying to do. There was a simple counterattack that James could use and the game should be his. He began deploying it with the confidence of a veteran player who had been in this situation a thousand times in the past. So, it was with great surprise when his opponent used a move he had never before seen or anticipated to easily defeat him in the game.
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.
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.
She needed glasses. It wasn't that she couldn't see without them, but what she could see with them. When she wore glasses, her eyes focused so deeply that she could see not only the physical but also beyond. It was like a superpower. But she needed glasses.
He stepped away from the mic. This was the best take he had done so far, but something seemed missing. Then it struck him all at once. Visuals ran in front of his eyes and music rang in his ears. His eager fingers went to work in an attempt to capture his thoughts hoping the results would produce something that was at least half their glory.
Sometimes it's simply better to ignore the haters. That's the lesson that Tom's dad had been trying to teach him, but Tom still couldn't let it go. He latched onto them and their hate and couldn't let it go, but he also realized that this wasn't healthy. That's when he came up with his devious plan.
There had to be a better way. That's all Nancy could think as she sat at her desk staring at her computer screen. She'd already spent five years of her life in this little cubicle staring at her computer doing "work" that didn't seem to matter to anyone including her own boss. There had to be more to her life than this and there had to be a better way to make a living. That's what she was thinking when the earthquake struck.
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 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.
He couldn't remember exactly where he had read it, but he was sure that he had. The fact that she didn't believe him was quite frustrating as he began to search the Internet to find the article. It wasn't as if it was something that seemed impossible. Yet she insisted on always seeing the source whenever he stated a fact.
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.
Was it enough? That was the question he kept asking himself. Was being satisfied enough? He looked around him at everyone yearning to just be satisfied in their daily life and he had reached that goal. He knew that he was satisfied and he also knew it wasn't going to be enough.
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.
The words hadn't flowed from his fingers for the past few weeks. He never imagined he'd find himself with writer's block, but here he sat with a blank screen in front of him. That blank screen taunting him day after day had started to play with his mind. He didn't understand why he couldn't even type a single word, just one to begin the process and build from there. And yet, he already knew that the eight hours he was prepared to sit in front of his computer today would end with the screen remaining blank.
They told her that this was her once chance to show the world what she was made of. She believed them at the time. It was the big stage and she knew the world would be there to see. The only one who had disagreed with this sentiment was her brother. He had told her that you don't show the world what you're made of when they are all watching, you show that in your actions when nobody was looking. It was looking more and more like her brother was correct.
The time had come for Nancy to say goodbye. She had been dreading this moment for a good six months, and it had finally arrived despite her best efforts to forestall it. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep the inevitable from happening. So the time had come for a normal person to say goodbye and move on. It was at this moment that Nancy decided not to be a normal person. After all the time and effort she had expended, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
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."
He had done everything right. There had been no mistakes throughout the entire process. It had been perfection and he knew it without a doubt, but the results still stared back at him with the fact that he had lost.
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.
There was a time when this wouldn't have bothered her. The fact that it did actually bother her bothered her even more. What had changed in her life that such a small thing could annoy her so much for the entire day? She knew it was ridiculous that she even took notice of it, yet she was still obsessing over it as she tried to fall asleep.
She tried to explain that love wasn't like pie. There wasn't a set number of slices to be given out. There wasn't less to be given to one person if you wanted to give more to another. That after a set amount was given out it would all disappear. She tried to explain this, but it fell on deaf ears.
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.
Love isn't always a ray of sunshine. That's what the older girls kept telling her when she said she had found the perfect man. She had thought this was simply bitter talk on their part since they had been unable to find true love like hers. But now she had to face the fact that they may have been right. Love may not always be a ray of sunshine. That is unless they were referring to how the sun can burn.
I'm meant to be writing at this moment. What I mean is, I'm meant to be writing something else at this moment. The document I'm meant to be writing is, of course, open in another program on my computer and is patiently awaiting my attention. Yet here I am plonking down senseless sentiments in this paragraph because it's easier to do than to work on anything particularly meaningful. I am grateful for the distraction.
The shoes had been there for as long as anyone could remember. In fact, it was difficult for anyone to come up with a date they had first appeared. It had seemed they'd always been there and yet they seemed so out of place. Why nobody had removed them was a question that had been asked time and again, but while they all thought it, nobody had ever found the energy to actually do it. So, the shoes remained on the steps, out of place in one sense, but perfectly normal in another.
April seriously wondered about her sleeping partner choices. She looked at her bed and what a mess it had become. How did she get to the point in her life where she had two dogs, three cats, and a raccoon sleeping with her every night?
Spending time at national parks can be an exciting adventure, but this wasn't the type of excitement she was hoping to experience. As she contemplated the situation she found herself in, she knew she'd gotten herself in a little more than she bargained for. It wasn't often that she found herself in a tree staring down at a pack of wolves that were looking to make her their next meal.
What were they eating? It didn't taste like anything she had ever eaten before and although she was famished, she didn't dare ask. She knew the answer would be one she didn't want to hear.
"Are you getting my texts???" she texted to him. He glanced at it and chuckled under his breath. Of course he was getting them, but if he wasn't getting them, how would he ever be able to answer? He put the phone down and continued on his project. He was ignoring her texts and he planned to continue to do so.
It was a question of which of the two she preferred. On the one hand, the choice seemed simple. The more expensive one with a brand name would be the choice of most. It was the easy choice. The safe choice. But she wasn't sure she actually preferred it.
The irony of the situation hadn't escaped her. She
It probably seemed trivial to most people, but it mattered to Tracey. She wasn't sure why it mattered so much to her, but she understood deep within her being that it mattered to her. So for the 365th day in a row, Tracey sat down to eat pancakes for breakfast.
It was difficult for him to admit he was wrong. He had been so certain that he was correct and the deeply held belief could never be shaken. Yet the proof that he had been incorrect stood right before his eyes. "See daddy, I told you that they are real!" his daughter excitedly proclaimed.
All he could think about was how it would all end. There was still a bit of uncertainty in the equation, but the basics were there for anyone to see. No matter how much he tried to see the positive, it wasn't anywhere to be seen. The end was coming and it wasn't going to be pretty.
They had made it to Las Vegas, wide-eyed and with so much hope and energy. They had planned the trip for more than a year and both were so excited they could barely control themselves. They still hadn't realized that Las Vegas promised a place where dreams come true, it was actually the place where dreams came to die.
Out of another, I get a lovely view of the bay and a little private wharf belonging to the estate. There is a beautiful shaded lane that runs down there from the house. I always fancy I see people walking in these numerous paths and arbors, but John has cautioned me not to give way to fancy in the least. He says that with my imaginative power and habit of story-making a nervous weakness like mine is sure to lead to all manner of excited fancies and that I ought to use my will and good sense to check the tendency. So I try.
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.
They rushed out the door, grabbing anything and everything they could think of they might need. There was no time to double-check to make sure they weren't leaving something important behind. Everything was thrown into the car and they sped off. Thirty minutes later they were safe and that was when it dawned on them that they had forgotten the most important thing of all.
There was something in the sky. What exactly was up there wasn't immediately clear. But there was definitely something in the sky and it was getting bigger and bigger.
Debbie knew she was being selfish and unreasonable. She understood why the others in the room were angry and frustrated with her and the way she was acting. In her eyes, it didn't really matter how they felt because she simply didn't care.
Rhonda prided herself on always taking the path less traveled. She'd decided to do this at an early age and had continued to do so throughout her entire life. It was a point of pride and she would explain to anyone who would listen that doing so was something that she'd made great efforts to always do. She'd never questioned this decision until her five-year-old niece asked her, "So, is this why your life has been so difficult?" and Rhonda didn't have an answer for her.
There were a variety of ways to win the game. James had played it long enough to know most of them and he could see what his opponent was trying to do. There was a simple counterattack that James could use and the game should be his. He began deploying it with the confidence of a veteran player who had been in this situation a thousand times in the past. So, it was with great surprise when his opponent used a move he had never before seen or anticipated to easily defeat him in the game.
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.
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.
She needed glasses. It wasn't that she couldn't see without them, but what she could see with them. When she wore glasses, her eyes focused so deeply that she could see not only the physical but also beyond. It was like a superpower. But she needed glasses.
He stepped away from the mic. This was the best take he had done so far, but something seemed missing. Then it struck him all at once. Visuals ran in front of his eyes and music rang in his ears. His eager fingers went to work in an attempt to capture his thoughts hoping the results would produce something that was at least half their glory.
Sometimes it's simply better to ignore the haters. That's the lesson that Tom's dad had been trying to teach him, but Tom still couldn't let it go. He latched onto them and their hate and couldn't let it go, but he also realized that this wasn't healthy. That's when he came up with his devious plan.
There had to be a better way. That's all Nancy could think as she sat at her desk staring at her computer screen. She'd already spent five years of her life in this little cubicle staring at her computer doing "work" that didn't seem to matter to anyone including her own boss. There had to be more to her life than this and there had to be a better way to make a living. That's what she was thinking when the earthquake struck.
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 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.
He couldn't remember exactly where he had read it, but he was sure that he had. The fact that she didn't believe him was quite frustrating as he began to search the Internet to find the article. It wasn't as if it was something that seemed impossible. Yet she insisted on always seeing the source whenever he stated a fact.
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.
Was it enough? That was the question he kept asking himself. Was being satisfied enough? He looked around him at everyone yearning to just be satisfied in their daily life and he had reached that goal. He knew that he was satisfied and he also knew it wasn't going to be enough.
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.
The words hadn't flowed from his fingers for the past few weeks. He never imagined he'd find himself with writer's block, but here he sat with a blank screen in front of him. That blank screen taunting him day after day had started to play with his mind. He didn't understand why he couldn't even type a single word, just one to begin the process and build from there. And yet, he already knew that the eight hours he was prepared to sit in front of his computer today would end with the screen remaining blank.
They told her that this was her once chance to show the world what she was made of. She believed them at the time. It was the big stage and she knew the world would be there to see. The only one who had disagreed with this sentiment was her brother. He had told her that you don't show the world what you're made of when they are all watching, you show that in your actions when nobody was looking. It was looking more and more like her brother was correct.
The time had come for Nancy to say goodbye. She had been dreading this moment for a good six months, and it had finally arrived despite her best efforts to forestall it. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep the inevitable from happening. So the time had come for a normal person to say goodbye and move on. It was at this moment that Nancy decided not to be a normal person. After all the time and effort she had expended, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
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."
He had done everything right. There had been no mistakes throughout the entire process. It had been perfection and he knew it without a doubt, but the results still stared back at him with the fact that he had lost.
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.
There was a time when this wouldn't have bothered her. The fact that it did actually bother her bothered her even more. What had changed in her life that such a small thing could annoy her so much for the entire day? She knew it was ridiculous that she even took notice of it, yet she was still obsessing over it as she tried to fall asleep.
She tried to explain that love wasn't like pie. There wasn't a set number of slices to be given out. There wasn't less to be given to one person if you wanted to give more to another. That after a set amount was given out it would all disappear. She tried to explain this, but it fell on deaf ears.
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.
Love isn't always a ray of sunshine. That's what the older girls kept telling her when she said she had found the perfect man. She had thought this was simply bitter talk on their part since they had been unable to find true love like hers. But now she had to face the fact that they may have been right. Love may not always be a ray of sunshine. That is unless they were referring to how the sun can burn.
I'm meant to be writing at this moment. What I mean is, I'm meant to be writing something else at this moment. The document I'm meant to be writing is, of course, open in another program on my computer and is patiently awaiting my attention. Yet here I am plonking down senseless sentiments in this paragraph because it's easier to do than to work on anything particularly meaningful. I am grateful for the distraction.
The shoes had been there for as long as anyone could remember. In fact, it was difficult for anyone to come up with a date they had first appeared. It had seemed they'd always been there and yet they seemed so out of place. Why nobody had removed them was a question that had been asked time and again, but while they all thought it, nobody had ever found the energy to actually do it. So, the shoes remained on the steps, out of place in one sense, but perfectly normal in another.
April seriously wondered about her sleeping partner choices. She looked at her bed and what a mess it had become. How did she get to the point in her life where she had two dogs, three cats, and a raccoon sleeping with her every night?
Spending time at national parks can be an exciting adventure, but this wasn't the type of excitement she was hoping to experience. As she contemplated the situation she found herself in, she knew she'd gotten herself in a little more than she bargained for. It wasn't often that she found herself in a tree staring down at a pack of wolves that were looking to make her their next meal.
What were they eating? It didn't taste like anything she had ever eaten before and although she was famished, she didn't dare ask. She knew the answer would be one she didn't want to hear.
"Are you getting my texts???" she texted to him. He glanced at it and chuckled under his breath. Of course he was getting them, but if he wasn't getting them, how would he ever be able to answer? He put the phone down and continued on his project. He was ignoring her texts and he planned to continue to do so.
It was a question of which of the two she preferred. On the one hand, the choice seemed simple. The more expensive one with a brand name would be the choice of most. It was the easy choice. The safe choice. But she wasn't sure she actually preferred it.
The irony of the situation hadn't escaped her. She It probably seemed trivial to most people, but it mattered to Tracey. She wasn't sure why it mattered so much to her, but she understood deep within her being that it mattered to her. So for the 365th day in a row, Tracey sat down to eat pancakes for breakfast.
It was difficult for him to admit he was wrong. He had been so certain that he was correct and the deeply held belief could never be shaken. Yet the proof that he had been incorrect stood right before his eyes. "See daddy, I told you that they are real!" his daughter excitedly proclaimed.
All he could think about was how it would all end. There was still a bit of uncertainty in the equation, but the basics were there for anyone to see. No matter how much he tried to see the positive, it wasn't anywhere to be seen. The end was coming and it wasn't going to be pretty.
They had made it to Las Vegas, wide-eyed and with so much hope and energy. They had planned the trip for more than a year and both were so excited they could barely control themselves. They still hadn't realized that Las Vegas promised a place where dreams come true, it was actually the place where dreams came to die.
Out of another, I get a lovely view of the bay and a little private wharf belonging to the estate. There is a beautiful shaded lane that runs down there from the house. I always fancy I see people walking in these numerous paths and arbors, but John has cautioned me not to give way to fancy in the least. He says that with my imaginative power and habit of story-making a nervous weakness like mine is sure to lead to all manner of excited fancies and that I ought to use my will and good sense to check the tendency. So I try.
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.
They rushed out the door, grabbing anything and everything they could think of they might need. There was no time to double-check to make sure they weren't leaving something important behind. Everything was thrown into the car and they sped off. Thirty minutes later they were safe and that was when it dawned on them that they had forgotten the most important thing of all.
There was something in the sky. What exactly was up there wasn't immediately clear. But there was definitely something in the sky and it was getting bigger and bigger.
Debbie knew she was being selfish and unreasonable. She understood why the others in the room were angry and frustrated with her and the way she was acting. In her eyes, it didn't really matter how they felt because she simply didn't care.
Rhonda prided herself on always taking the path less traveled. She'd decided to do this at an early age and had continued to do so throughout her entire life. It was a point of pride and she would explain to anyone who would listen that doing so was something that she'd made great efforts to always do. She'd never questioned this decision until her five-year-old niece asked her, "So, is this why your life has been so difficult?" and Rhonda didn't have an answer for her.
There were a variety of ways to win the game. James had played it long enough to know most of them and he could see what his opponent was trying to do. There was a simple counterattack that James could use and the game should be his. He began deploying it with the confidence of a veteran player who had been in this situation a thousand times in the past. So, it was with great surprise when his opponent used a move he had never before seen or anticipated to easily defeat him in the game.
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.
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.
She needed glasses. It wasn't that she couldn't see without them, but what she could see with them. When she wore glasses, her eyes focused so deeply that she could see not only the physical but also beyond. It was like a superpower. But she needed glasses.
He stepped away from the mic. This was the best take he had done so far, but something seemed missing. Then it struck him all at once. Visuals ran in front of his eyes and music rang in his ears. His eager fingers went to work in an attempt to capture his thoughts hoping the results would produce something that was at least half their glory.
Sometimes it's simply better to ignore the haters. That's the lesson that Tom's dad had been trying to teach him, but Tom still couldn't let it go. He latched onto them and their hate and couldn't let it go, but he also realized that this wasn't healthy. That's when he came up with his devious plan.
There had to be a better way. That's all Nancy could think as she sat at her desk staring at her computer screen. She'd already spent five years of her life in this little cubicle staring at her computer doing "work" that didn't seem to matter to anyone including her own boss. There had to be more to her life than this and there had to be a better way to make a living. That's what she was thinking when the earthquake struck.
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 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.
He couldn't remember exactly where he had read it, but he was sure that he had. The fact that she didn't believe him was quite frustrating as he began to search the Internet to find the article. It wasn't as if it was something that seemed impossible. Yet she insisted on always seeing the source whenever he stated a fact.
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.
Was it enough? That was the question he kept asking himself. Was being satisfied enough? He looked around him at everyone yearning to just be satisfied in their daily life and he had reached that goal. He knew that he was satisfied and he also knew it wasn't going to be enough.
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.
The words hadn't flowed from his fingers for the past few weeks. He never imagined he'd find himself with writer's block, but here he sat with a blank screen in front of him. That blank screen taunting him day after day had started to play with his mind. He didn't understand why he couldn't even type a single word, just one to begin the process and build from there. And yet, he already knew that the eight hours he was prepared to sit in front of his computer today would end with the screen remaining blank.
They told her that this was her once chance to show the world what she was made of. She believed them at the time. It was the big stage and she knew the world would be there to see. The only one who had disagreed with this sentiment was her brother. He had told her that you don't show the world what you're made of when they are all watching, you show that in your actions when nobody was looking. It was looking more and more like her brother was correct.
The time had come for Nancy to say goodbye. She had been dreading this moment for a good six months, and it had finally arrived despite her best efforts to forestall it. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep the inevitable from happening. So the time had come for a normal person to say goodbye and move on. It was at this moment that Nancy decided not to be a normal person. After all the time and effort she had expended, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
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."
He had done everything right. There had been no mistakes throughout the entire process. It had been perfection and he knew it without a doubt, but the results still stared back at him with the fact that he had lost.
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.
There was a time when this wouldn't have bothered her. The fact that it did actually bother her bothered her even more. What had changed in her life that such a small thing could annoy her so much for the entire day? She knew it was ridiculous that she even took notice of it, yet she was still obsessing over it as she tried to fall asleep.
She tried to explain that love wasn't like pie. There wasn't a set number of slices to be given out. There wasn't less to be given to one person if you wanted to give more to another. That after a set amount was given out it would all disappear. She tried to explain this, but it fell on deaf ears.
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.
Love isn't always a ray of sunshine. That's what the older girls kept telling her when she said she had found the perfect man. She had thought this was simply bitter talk on their part since they had been unable to find true love like hers. But now she had to face the fact that they may have been right. Love may not always be a ray of sunshine. That is unless they were referring to how the sun can burn.
I'm meant to be writing at this moment. What I mean is, I'm meant to be writing something else at this moment. The document I'm meant to be writing is, of course, open in another program on my computer and is patiently awaiting my attention. Yet here I am plonking down senseless sentiments in this paragraph because it's easier to do than to work on anything particularly meaningful. I am grateful for the distraction.
The shoes had been there for as long as anyone could remember. In fact, it was difficult for anyone to come up with a date they had first appeared. It had seemed they'd always been there and yet they seemed so out of place. Why nobody had removed them was a question that had been asked time and again, but while they all thought it, nobody had ever found the energy to actually do it. So, the shoes remained on the steps, out of place in one sense, but perfectly normal in another.
April seriously wondered about her sleeping partner choices. She looked at her bed and what a mess it had become. How did she get to the point in her life where she had two dogs, three cats, and a raccoon sleeping with her every night?
Spending time at national parks can be an exciting adventure, but this wasn't the type of excitement she was hoping to experience. As she contemplated the situation she found herself in, she knew she'd gotten herself in a little more than she bargained for. It wasn't often that she found herself in a tree staring down at a pack of wolves that were looking to make her their next meal.
What were they eating? It didn't taste like anything she had ever eaten before and although she was famished, she didn't dare ask. She knew the answer would be one she didn't want to hear.
"Are you getting my texts???" she texted to him. He glanced at it and chuckled under his breath. Of course he was getting them, but if he wasn't getting them, how would he ever be able to answer? He put the phone down and continued on his project. He was ignoring her texts and he planned to continue to do so.
It was a question of which of the two she preferred. On the one hand, the choice seemed simple. The more expensive one with a brand name would be the choice of most. It was the easy choice. The safe choice. But she wasn't sure she actually preferred it.
The irony of the situation hadn't escaped her. She It probably seemed trivial to most people, but it mattered to Tracey. She wasn't sure why it mattered so much to her, but she understood deep within her being that it mattered to her. So for the 365th day in a row, Tracey sat down to eat pancakes for breakfast.
It was difficult for him to admit he was wrong. He had been so certain that he was correct and the deeply held belief could never be shaken. Yet the proof that he had been incorrect stood right before his eyes. "See daddy, I told you that they are real!" his daughter excitedly proclaimed.
All he could think about was how it would all end. There was still a bit of uncertainty in the equation, but the basics were there for anyone to see. No matter how much he tried to see the positive, it wasn't anywhere to be seen. The end was coming and it wasn't going to be pretty.
They had made it to Las Vegas, wide-eyed and with so much hope and energy. They had planned the trip for more than a year and both were so excited they could barely control themselves. They still hadn't realized that Las Vegas promised a place where dreams come true, it was actually the place where dreams came to die.
Out of another, I get a lovely view of the bay and a little private wharf belonging to the estate. There is a beautiful shaded lane that runs down there from the house. I always fancy I see people walking in these numerous paths and arbors, but John has cautioned me not to give way to fancy in the least. He says that with my imaginative power and habit of story-making a nervous weakness like mine is sure to lead to all manner of excited fancies and that I ought to use my will and good sense to check the tendency. So I try.
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.
They rushed out the door, grabbing anything and everything they could think of they might need. There was no time to double-check to make sure they weren't leaving something important behind. Everything was thrown into the car and they sped off. Thirty minutes later they were safe and that was when it dawned on them that they had forgotten the most important thing of all.
There was something in the sky. What exactly was up there wasn't immediately clear. But there was definitely something in the sky and it was getting bigger and bigger.
Debbie knew she was being selfish and unreasonable. She understood why the others in the room were angry and frustrated with her and the way she was acting. In her eyes, it didn't really matter how they felt because she simply didn't care.
Rhonda prided herself on always taking the path less traveled. She'd decided to do this at an early age and had continued to do so throughout her entire life. It was a point of pride and she would explain to anyone who would listen that doing so was something that she'd made great efforts to always do. She'd never questioned this decision until her five-year-old niece asked her, "So, is this why your life has been so difficult?" and Rhonda didn't have an answer for her.
There were a variety of ways to win the game. James had played it long enough to know most of them and he could see what his opponent was trying to do. There was a simple counterattack that James could use and the game should be his. He began deploying it with the confidence of a veteran player who had been in this situation a thousand times in the past. So, it was with great surprise when his opponent used a move he had never before seen or anticipated to easily defeat him in the game.
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.
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.
She needed glasses. It wasn't that she couldn't see without them, but what she could see with them. When she wore glasses, her eyes focused so deeply that she could see not only the physical but also beyond. It was like a superpower. But she needed glasses.
He stepped away from the mic. This was the best take he had done so far, but something seemed missing. Then it struck him all at once. Visuals ran in front of his eyes and music rang in his ears. His eager fingers went to work in an attempt to capture his thoughts hoping the results would produce something that was at least half their glory.
Sometimes it's simply better to ignore the haters. That's the lesson that Tom's dad had been trying to teach him, but Tom still couldn't let it go. He latched onto them and their hate and couldn't let it go, but he also realized that this wasn't healthy. That's when he came up with his devious plan.
There had to be a better way. That's all Nancy could think as she sat at her desk staring at her computer screen. She'd already spent five years of her life in this little cubicle staring at her computer doing "work" that didn't seem to matter to anyone including her own boss. There had to be more to her life than this and there had to be a better way to make a living. That's what she was thinking when the earthquake struck.
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 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.
He couldn't remember exactly where he had read it, but he was sure that he had. The fact that she didn't believe him was quite frustrating as he began to search the Internet to find the article. It wasn't as if it was something that seemed impossible. Yet she insisted on always seeing the source whenever he stated a fact.
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.
Was it enough? That was the question he kept asking himself. Was being satisfied enough? He looked around him at everyone yearning to just be satisfied in their daily life and he had reached that goal. He knew that he was satisfied and he also knew it wasn't going to be enough.
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.
The words hadn't flowed from his fingers for the past few weeks. He never imagined he'd find himself with writer's block, but here he sat with a blank screen in front of him. That blank screen taunting him day after day had started to play with his mind. He didn't understand why he couldn't even type a single word, just one to begin the process and build from there. And yet, he already knew that the eight hours he was prepared to sit in front of his computer today would end with the screen remaining blank.
They told her that this was her once chance to show the world what she was made of. She believed them at the time. It was the big stage and she knew the world would be there to see. The only one who had disagreed with this sentiment was her brother. He had told her that you don't show the world what you're made of when they are all watching, you show that in your actions when nobody was looking. It was looking more and more like her brother was correct.
The time had come for Nancy to say goodbye. She had been dreading this moment for a good six months, and it had finally arrived despite her best efforts to forestall it. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep the inevitable from happening. So the time had come for a normal person to say goodbye and move on. It was at this moment that Nancy decided not to be a normal person. After all the time and effort she had expended, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
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."
He had done everything right. There had been no mistakes throughout the entire process. It had been perfection and he knew it without a doubt, but the results still stared back at him with the fact that he had lost.
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.
There was a time when this wouldn't have bothered her. The fact that it did actually bother her bothered her even more. What had changed in her life that such a small thing could annoy her so much for the entire day? She knew it was ridiculous that she even took notice of it, yet she was still obsessing over it as she tried to fall asleep.
She tried to explain that love wasn't like pie. There wasn't a set number of slices to be given out. There wasn't less to be given to one person if you wanted to give more to another. That after a set amount was given out it would all disappear. She tried to explain this, but it fell on deaf ears.
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.
Love isn't always a ray of sunshine. That's what the older girls kept telling her when she said she had found the perfect man. She had thought this was simply bitter talk on their part since they had been unable to find true love like hers. But now she had to face the fact that they may have been right. Love may not always be a ray of sunshine. That is unless they were referring to how the sun can burn.
I'm meant to be writing at this moment. What I mean is, I'm meant to be writing something else at this moment. The document I'm meant to be writing is, of course, open in another program on my computer and is patiently awaiting my attention. Yet here I am plonking down senseless sentiments in this paragraph because it's easier to do than to work on anything particularly meaningful. I am grateful for the distraction.
The shoes had been there for as long as anyone could remember. In fact, it was difficult for anyone to come up with a date they had first appeared. It had seemed they'd always been there and yet they seemed so out of place. Why nobody had removed them was a question that had been asked time and again, but while they all thought it, nobody had ever found the energy to actually do it. So, the shoes remained on the steps, out of place in one sense, but perfectly normal in another.
April seriously wondered about her sleeping partner choices. She looked at her bed and what a mess it had become. How did she get to the point in her life where she had two dogs, three cats, and a raccoon sleeping with her every night?
Spending time at national parks can be an exciting adventure, but this wasn't the type of excitement she was hoping to experience. As she contemplated the situation she found herself in, she knew she'd gotten herself in a little more than she bargained for. It wasn't often that she found herself in a tree staring down at a pack of wolves that were looking to make her their next meal.
What were they eating? It didn't taste like anything she had ever eaten before and although she was famished, she didn't dare ask. She knew the answer would be one she didn't want to hear.
"Are you getting my texts???" she texted to him. He glanced at it and chuckled under his breath. Of course he was getting them, but if he wasn't getting them, how would he ever be able to answer? He put the phone down and continued on his project. He was ignoring her texts and he planned to continue to do so.
It was a question of which of the two she preferred. On the one hand, the choice seemed simple. The more expensive one with a brand name would be the choice of most. It was the easy choice. The safe choice. But she wasn't sure she actually preferred it.
The irony of the situation hadn't escaped her. She It probably seemed trivial to most people, but it mattered to Tracey. She wasn't sure why it mattered so much to her, but she understood deep within her being that it mattered to her. So for the 365th day in a row, Tracey sat down to eat pancakes for breakfast.
It was difficult for him to admit he was wrong. He had been so certain that he was correct and the deeply held belief could never be shaken. Yet the proof that he had been incorrect stood right before his eyes. "See daddy, I told you that they are real!" his daughter excitedly proclaimed.
All he could think about was how it would all end. There was still a bit of uncertainty in the equation, but the basics were there for anyone to see. No matter how much he tried to see the positive, it wasn't anywhere to be seen. The end was coming and it wasn't going to be pretty.
They had made it to Las Vegas, wide-eyed and with so much hope and energy. They had planned the trip for more than a year and both were so excited they could barely control themselves. They still hadn't realized that Las Vegas promised a place where dreams come true, it was actually the place where dreams came to die.
Out of another, I get a lovely view of the bay and a little private wharf belonging to the estate. There is a beautiful shaded lane that runs down there from the house. I always fancy I see people walking in these numerous paths and arbors, but John has cautioned me not to give way to fancy in the least. He says that with my imaginative power and habit of story-making a nervous weakness like mine is sure to lead to all manner of excited fancies and that I ought to use my will and good sense to check the tendency. So I try.
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.
They rushed out the door, grabbing anything and everything they could think of they might need. There was no time to double-check to make sure they weren't leaving something important behind. Everything was thrown into the car and they sped off. Thirty minutes later they were safe and that was when it dawned on them that they had forgotten the most important thing of all.
There was something in the sky. What exactly was up there wasn't immediately clear. But there was definitely something in the sky and it was getting bigger and bigger.
Debbie knew she was being selfish and unreasonable. She understood why the others in the room were angry and frustrated with her and the way she was acting. In her eyes, it didn't really matter how they felt because she simply didn't care.
Rhonda prided herself on always taking the path less traveled. She'd decided to do this at an early age and had continued to do so throughout her entire life. It was a point of pride and she would explain to anyone who would listen that doing so was something that she'd made great efforts to always do. She'd never questioned this decision until her five-year-old niece asked her, "So, is this why your life has been so difficult?" and Rhonda didn't have an answer for her.
There were a variety of ways to win the game. James had played it long enough to know most of them and he could see what his opponent was trying to do. There was a simple counterattack that James could use and the game should be his. He began deploying it with the confidence of a veteran player who had been in this situation a thousand times in the past. So, it was with great surprise when his opponent used a move he had never before seen or anticipated to easily defeat him in the game.
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.
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.
She needed glasses. It wasn't that she couldn't see without them, but what she could see with them. When she wore glasses, her eyes focused so deeply that she could see not only the physical but also beyond. It was like a superpower. But she needed glasses.
He stepped away from the mic. This was the best take he had done so far, but something seemed missing. Then it struck him all at once. Visuals ran in front of his eyes and music rang in his ears. His eager fingers went to work in an attempt to capture his thoughts hoping the results would produce something that was at least half their glory.
Sometimes it's simply better to ignore the haters. That's the lesson that Tom's dad had been trying to teach him, but Tom still couldn't let it go. He latched onto them and their hate and couldn't let it go, but he also realized that this wasn't healthy. That's when he came up with his devious plan.
There had to be a better way. That's all Nancy could think as she sat at her desk staring at her computer screen. She'd already spent five years of her life in this little cubicle staring at her computer doing "work" that didn't seem to matter to anyone including her own boss. There had to be more to her life than this and there had to be a better way to make a living. That's what she was thinking when the earthquake struck.
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 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.
He couldn't remember exactly where he had read it, but he was sure that he had. The fact that she didn't believe him was quite frustrating as he began to search the Internet to find the article. It wasn't as if it was something that seemed impossible. Yet she insisted on always seeing the source whenever he stated a fact.
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.
Was it enough? That was the question he kept asking himself. Was being satisfied enough? He looked around him at everyone yearning to just be satisfied in their daily life and he had reached that goal. He knew that he was satisfied and he also knew it wasn't going to be enough.
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.
The words hadn't flowed from his fingers for the past few weeks. He never imagined he'd find himself with writer's block, but here he sat with a blank screen in front of him. That blank screen taunting him day after day had started to play with his mind. He didn't understand why he couldn't even type a single word, just one to begin the process and build from there. And yet, he already knew that the eight hours he was prepared to sit in front of his computer today would end with the screen remaining blank.
They told her that this was her once chance to show the world what she was made of. She believed them at the time. It was the big stage and she knew the world would be there to see. The only one who had disagreed with this sentiment was her brother. He had told her that you don't show the world what you're made of when they are all watching, you show that in your actions when nobody was looking. It was looking more and more like her brother was correct.
The time had come for Nancy to say goodbye. She had been dreading this moment for a good six months, and it had finally arrived despite her best efforts to forestall it. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep the inevitable from happening. So the time had come for a normal person to say goodbye and move on. It was at this moment that Nancy decided not to be a normal person. After all the time and effort she had expended, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
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."
He had done everything right. There had been no mistakes throughout the entire process. It had been perfection and he knew it without a doubt, but the results still stared back at him with the fact that he had lost.
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.
There was a time when this wouldn't have bothered her. The fact that it did actually bother her bothered her even more. What had changed in her life that such a small thing could annoy her so much for the entire day? She knew it was ridiculous that she even took notice of it, yet she was still obsessing over it as she tried to fall asleep.
She tried to explain that love wasn't like pie. There wasn't a set number of slices to be given out. There wasn't less to be given to one person if you wanted to give more to another. That after a set amount was given out it would all disappear. She tried to explain this, but it fell on deaf ears.
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.
Love isn't always a ray of sunshine. That's what the older girls kept telling her when she said she had found the perfect man. She had thought this was simply bitter talk on their part since they had been unable to find true love like hers. But now she had to face the fact that they may have been right. Love may not always be a ray of sunshine. That is unless they were referring to how the sun can burn.
I'm meant to be writing at this moment. What I mean is, I'm meant to be writing something else at this moment. The document I'm meant to be writing is, of course, open in another program on my computer and is patiently awaiting my attention. Yet here I am plonking down senseless sentiments in this paragraph because it's easier to do than to work on anything particularly meaningful. I am grateful for the distraction.
The shoes had been there for as long as anyone could remember. In fact, it was difficult for anyone to come up with a date they had first appeared. It had seemed they'd always been there and yet they seemed so out of place. Why nobody had removed them was a question that had been asked time and again, but while they all thought it, nobody had ever found the energy to actually do it. So, the shoes remained on the steps, out of place in one sense, but perfectly normal in another.
April seriously wondered about her sleeping partner choices. She looked at her bed and what a mess it had become. How did she get to the point in her life where she had two dogs, three cats, and a raccoon sleeping with her every night?
Spending time at national parks can be an exciting adventure, but this wasn't the type of excitement she was hoping to experience. As she contemplated the situation she found herself in, she knew she'd gotten herself in a little more than she bargained for. It wasn't often that she found herself in a tree staring down at a pack of wolves that were looking to make her their next meal.
What were they eating? It didn't taste like anything she had ever eaten before and although she was famished, she didn't dare ask. She knew the answer would be one she didn't want to hear.
"Are you getting my texts???" she texted to him. He glanced at it and chuckled under his breath. Of course he was getting them, but if he wasn't getting them, how would he ever be able to answer? He put the phone down and continued on his project. He was ignoring her texts and he planned to continue to do so.
It was a question of which of the two she preferred. On the one hand, the choice seemed simple. The more expensive one with a brand name would be the choice of most. It was the easy choice. The safe choice. But she wasn't sure she actually preferred it.
The irony of the situation hadn't escaped her. She It probably seemed trivial to most people, but it mattered to Tracey. She wasn't sure why it mattered so much to her, but she understood deep within her being that it mattered to her. So for the 365th day in a row, Tracey sat down to eat pancakes for breakfast.
It was difficult for him to admit he was wrong. He had been so certain that he was correct and the deeply held belief could never be shaken. Yet the proof that he had been incorrect stood right before his eyes. "See daddy, I told you that they are real!" his daughter excitedly proclaimed.
All he could think about was how it would all end. There was still a bit of uncertainty in the equation, but the basics were there for anyone to see. No matter how much he tried to see the positive, it wasn't anywhere to be seen. The end was coming and it wasn't going to be pretty.
They had made it to Las Vegas, wide-eyed and with so much hope and energy. They had planned the trip for more than a year and both were so excited they could barely control themselves. They still hadn't realized that Las Vegas promised a place where dreams come true, it was actually the place where dreams came to die.
Out of another, I get a lovely view of the bay and a little private wharf belonging to the estate. There is a beautiful shaded lane that runs down there from the house. I always fancy I see people walking in these numerous paths and arbors, but John has cautioned me not to give way to fancy in the least. He says that with my imaginative power and habit of story-making a nervous weakness like mine is sure to lead to all manner of excited fancies and that I ought to use my will and good sense to check the tendency. So I try.
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.
They rushed out the door, grabbing anything and everything they could think of they might need. There was no time to double-check to make sure they weren't leaving something important behind. Everything was thrown into the car and they sped off. Thirty minutes later they were safe and that was when it dawned on them that they had forgotten the most important thing of all.
There was something in the sky. What exactly was up there wasn't immediately clear. But there was definitely something in the sky and it was getting bigger and bigger.
Debbie knew she was being selfish and unreasonable. She understood why the others in the room were angry and frustrated with her and the way she was acting. In her eyes, it didn't really matter how they felt because she simply didn't care.
Rhonda prided herself on always taking the path less traveled. She'd decided to do this at an early age and had continued to do so throughout her entire life. It was a point of pride and she would explain to anyone who would listen that doing so was something that she'd made great efforts to always do. She'd never questioned this decision until her five-year-old niece asked her, "So, is this why your life has been so difficult?" and Rhonda didn't have an answer for her.
There were a variety of ways to win the game. James had played it long enough to know most of them and he could see what his opponent was trying to do. There was a simple counterattack that James could use and the game should be his. He began deploying it with the confidence of a veteran player who had been in this situation a thousand times in the past. So, it was with great surprise when his opponent used a move he had never before seen or anticipated to easily defeat him in the game.
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.
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.
She needed glasses. It wasn't that she couldn't see without them, but what she could see with them. When she wore glasses, her eyes focused so deeply that she could see not only the physical but also beyond. It was like a superpower. But she needed glasses.
He stepped away from the mic. This was the best take he had done so far, but something seemed missing. Then it struck him all at once. Visuals ran in front of his eyes and music rang in his ears. His eager fingers went to work in an attempt to capture his thoughts hoping the results would produce something that was at least half their glory.
Sometimes it's simply better to ignore the haters. That's the lesson that Tom's dad had been trying to teach him, but Tom still couldn't let it go. He latched onto them and their hate and couldn't let it go, but he also realized that this wasn't healthy. That's when he came up with his devious plan.
There had to be a better way. That's all Nancy could think as she sat at her desk staring at her computer screen. She'd already spent five years of her life in this little cubicle staring at her computer doing "work" that didn't seem to matter to anyone including her own boss. There had to be more to her life than this and there had to be a better way to make a living. That's what she was thinking when the earthquake struck.
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 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.
He couldn't remember exactly where he had read it, but he was sure that he had. The fact that she didn't believe him was quite frustrating as he began to search the Internet to find the article. It wasn't as if it was something that seemed impossible. Yet she insisted on always seeing the source whenever he stated a fact.
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.
Was it enough? That was the question he kept asking himself. Was being satisfied enough? He looked around him at everyone yearning to just be satisfied in their daily life and he had reached that goal. He knew that he was satisfied and he also knew it wasn't going to be enough.
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.
The words hadn't flowed from his fingers for the past few weeks. He never imagined he'd find himself with writer's block, but here he sat with a blank screen in front of him. That blank screen taunting him day after day had started to play with his mind. He didn't understand why he couldn't even type a single word, just one to begin the process and build from there. And yet, he already knew that the eight hours he was prepared to sit in front of his computer today would end with the screen remaining blank.
They told her that this was her once chance to show the world what she was made of. She believed them at the time. It was the big stage and she knew the world would be there to see. The only one who had disagreed with this sentiment was her brother. He had told her that you don't show the world what you're made of when they are all watching, you show that in your actions when nobody was looking. It was looking more and more like her brother was correct.
The time had come for Nancy to say goodbye. She had been dreading this moment for a good six months, and it had finally arrived despite her best efforts to forestall it. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep the inevitable from happening. So the time had come for a normal person to say goodbye and move on. It was at this moment that Nancy decided not to be a normal person. After all the time and effort she had expended, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
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."
He had done everything right. There had been no mistakes throughout the entire process. It had been perfection and he knew it without a doubt, but the results still stared back at him with the fact that he had lost.
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.
There was a time when this wouldn't have bothered her. The fact that it did actually bother her bothered her even more. What had changed in her life that such a small thing could annoy her so much for the entire day? She knew it was ridiculous that she even took notice of it, yet she was still obsessing over it as she tried to fall asleep.
She tried to explain that love wasn't like pie. There wasn't a set number of slices to be given out. There wasn't less to be given to one person if you wanted to give more to another. That after a set amount was given out it would all disappear. She tried to explain this, but it fell on deaf ears.
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.
Love isn't always a ray of sunshine. That's what the older girls kept telling her when she said she had found the perfect man. She had thought this was simply bitter talk on their part since they had been unable to find true love like hers. But now she had to face the fact that they may have been right. Love may not always be a ray of sunshine. That is unless they were referring to how the sun can burn.
I'm meant to be writing at this moment. What I mean is, I'm meant to be writing something else at this moment. The document I'm meant to be writing is, of course, open in another program on my computer and is patiently awaiting my attention. Yet here I am plonking down senseless sentiments in this paragraph because it's easier to do than to work on anything particularly meaningful. I am grateful for the distraction.
The shoes had been there for as long as anyone could remember. In fact, it was difficult for anyone to come up with a date they had first appeared. It had seemed they'd always been there and yet they seemed so out of place. Why nobody had removed them was a question that had been asked time and again, but while they all thought it, nobody had ever found the energy to actually do it. So, the shoes remained on the steps, out of place in one sense, but perfectly normal in another.
April seriously wondered about her sleeping partner choices. She looked at her bed and what a mess it had become. How did she get to the point in her life where she had two dogs, three cats, and a raccoon sleeping with her every night?
Spending time at national parks can be an exciting adventure, but this wasn't the type of excitement she was hoping to experience. As she contemplated the situation she found herself in, she knew she'd gotten herself in a little more than she bargained for. It wasn't often that she found herself in a tree staring down at a pack of wolves that were looking to make her their next meal.
What were they eating? It didn't taste like anything she had ever eaten before and although she was famished, she didn't dare ask. She knew the answer would be one she didn't want to hear.
"Are you getting my texts???" she texted to him. He glanced at it and chuckled under his breath. Of course he was getting them, but if he wasn't getting them, how would he ever be able to answer? He put the phone down and continued on his project. He was ignoring her texts and he planned to continue to do so.
It was a question of which of the two she preferred. On the one hand, the choice seemed simple. The more expensive one with a brand name would be the choice of most. It was the easy choice. The safe choice. But she wasn't sure she actually preferred it.
The irony of the situation hadn't escaped her. She