AmiableMedwin

@amiablemedwin

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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.

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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.

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The wave roared towards them with speed and violence they had not anticipated. They both turned to run but by that time it was too late. The wave crashed into their legs sweeping both of them off of their feet. They now found themselves in a washing machine of saltwater, getting tumbled and not know what was up or down. Both were scared, not knowing how this was going to end, but it was by far the best time of the trip thus far.

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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.

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It really didn't matter what they did to him. He's already made up his mind. Whatever came his way, he was prepared for the consequences. He knew in his heart that the sacrifice he made was done with love and not hate no matter how others decided to spin it.

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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.

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Since they are still preserved in the rocks for us to see, they must have been formed quite recently, that is, geologically speaking. What can explain these striations and their common orientation? Did you ever hear about the Great Ice Age or the Pleistocene Epoch? Less than one million years ago, in fact, some 12,000 years ago, an ice sheet many thousands of feet thick rode over Burke Mountain in a southeastward direction. The many boulders frozen to the underside of the ice sheet tended to scratch the rocks over which they rode. The scratches or striations seen in the park rocks were caused by these attached boulders. The ice sheet also plucked and rounded Burke Mountain into the shape it possesses today.

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One foot in front of the other, One more step, and then one more. Jack's only thoughts were to keep moving no matter how much his body screamed to stop and rest. He's lost almost all his energy and his entire body ached beyond belief, but he forced himself to take another step. Then another. And then one more.

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She had a terrible habit o comparing her life to others. She realized that their life experiences were completely different than her own and that she saw only what they wanted her to see, but that didn't matter. She still compared herself and yearned for what she thought they had and she didn't.

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Brenda never wanted to be famous. While most of her friends dreamed about being famous, she could see the negative aspects that those who wanted to be famous seemed to ignore. The fact that you could never do anything in public without being mobbed and the complete lack of privacy was something that she never wanted to experience. She also had no desire to have strangers speculating about every aspect of her life and what each thing she did was supposed to mean. Brenda was perfectly happy with her anonymous life where she could do exactly as she wanted without anyone else giving a damn. Thus, her overnight Internet celebrity was not something she was thrilled about as her friends told her how lucky she was.

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It was a really good Monday for being a Saturday.

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Devon couldn't figure out the color of her eyes. He initially would have guessed that they were green, but the more he looked at them he almost wanted to say they were a golden yellow. Then there were the flashes of red and orange that seemed to be streaked throughout them. It was almost as if her eyes were made of opal with the sun constantly glinting off of them and bringing out more color. They were definitely the most unusual pair of eyes he'd ever seen.

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Then came the night of the first falling star. It was seen early in the morning, rushing over Winchester eastward, a line of flame high in the atmosphere. Hundreds must have seen it and taken it for an ordinary falling star. It seemed that it fell to earth about one hundred miles east of him.

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The choice was red, green, or blue. It didn't seem like an important choice when he was making it, but it was a choice nonetheless. Had he known the consequences at that time, he would likely have considered the choice a bit longer. In the end, he didn't and ended up choosing blue.

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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.

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How had she been so wrong? All her instincts and intuition completely failed her for the first time in her life. She had so heavily relied on both when making decisions up until this moment and she felt a seismic shift take place in her self-confidence. If she could be so completely wrong about something so simple as this, how could she make decisions about really important things taking place in her life? She wasn't sure what she should do next.

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Sarah watched the whirlpool mesmerized. She couldn't take her eyes off the water swirling around and around. She stuck in small twigs and leaves to watch the whirlpool catch them and then suck them down. It bothered her more than a little bit that this could also be used as a metaphor for her life.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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