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I am Hollywood Star

Mark a film student from our world gets transmigrated into an alternate earth where famous movies, books, and companies from our world don't exist. Read how he creates these movies and reaches to the top of Hollywood. MCU, Star Wars, Breaking Bad, Game Of Thrones just wait I will create all of them.

Aniz_ooal_Clown · Anime & Comics

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7 Chs

Bullshit

Why do Americans have so many different types of towels? We have beach towels, hand towels, bath towels, dish towels, camping towels, quick-dry towels, and let's not forget paper towels. Would 1 type of towel work for each of these things? Let's take a beach towel. It can be used to dry your hands and body with no difficulty. A beach towel could be used to dry dishes. Just think how many dishes you could dry with one beach towel. I've used a beach towel with no adverse effects while camping. If you buy a thin beach towel it can dry quickly too. I'd probably cut up a beach towel to wipe down counters or for cleaning other items, but a full beach towel could be used too. Is having so many types of towels an extravagant luxury that Americans enjoy or is it necessary? I'd say it's overkill and we could cut down on the many types of towels that manufacturers deem necessary.

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.

Debbie had taken George for granted for more than fifteen years now. He wasn't sure what exactly had made him choose this time and place to address the issue, but he decided that now was the time. He looked straight into her eyes and just as she was about to speak, turned away and walked out the door.

He took a sip of the drink. He wasn't sure whether he liked it or not, but at this moment it didn't matter. She had made it especially for him so he would have forced it down even if he had absolutely hated it. That's simply the way things worked. She made him a new-fangled drink each day and he took a sip of it and smiled, saying it was excellent.

It seemed like it should have been so simple. There was nothing inherently difficult with getting the project done. It was simple and straightforward enough that even a child should have been able to complete it on time, but that wasn't the case. The deadline had arrived and the project remained unfinished.

The paper was blank. It shouldn't have been. There should have been writing on the paper, at least a paragraph if not more. The fact that the writing wasn't there was frustrating. Actually, it was even more than frustrating. It was downright distressing.

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.

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.

The kids were loud. They were way too loud for Jerry, especially since this was a four-hour flight. The parents didn't seem to be able, or simply didn't want, to control them. They were yelling and fighting among themselves and it was impossible for any of the passengers to concentrate or rest. He thought about politely tapping on the parents' shoulders and asking them to try and get their kids under a bit more control, but before he did he came up with a better idea. Sure, it was a bit sinister, and he'd probably end p in a lot of trouble, but he really didn't care at that point.

The clowns had taken over. And yes, they were literally clowns. Over 100 had appeared out of a small VW bug that had been driven up to the bank. Now they were all inside and had taken it over.

A long black shadow slid across the pavement near their feet and the five Venusians, very much startled, looked overhead. They were barely in time to see the huge gray form of the carnivore before it vanished behind a sign atop a nearby building which bore the mystifying information "Pepsi-Cola."

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.

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.

He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a sip of the drink. He had tasted this before, but he couldn't quite remember the time and place it had happened. He desperately searched his mind trying to locate and remember where he had tasted this when the bicycle ran over his foot.

I love the feel of wood curls flying off the lathe as I begin to shape the log in front of me. The sound of scraping changes based on the wetness of the wood, the speed at which the lathe is turning, and the type of cut I am making. The smell and feel of wet wood being turned are unique. The water is sprayed out as I cut through the different layers of wood. A log can turn into anything one's imagination can think of with the right set of hands-on tools. I have those hands and imagination. I use all of my senses and intuition to create a beautiful object. That is why I enjoy turning wood.

Welcome to my world. You will be greeted by the unexpected here and your mind will be challenged and expanded in ways that you never thought possible. That is if you are able to survive...

Twenty-five years Dana had been waiting. She tried to be patient during that time but she hadn't always managed to be as patient as she'd like. But today the opportunity had finally come. The thing she always imagined would make her the happiest person in the world was about to happen. She didn't know why at this specific time she all of a sudden felt sick inside.

You're going to make a choice today that will have a direct impact on where you are five years from now. The truth is, you'll make choice like that every day of your life. The problem is that on most days, you won't know the choice you make will have such a huge impact on your life in the future. So if you want to end up in a certain place in the future, you need to be careful of the choices you make today.

Another option you have is choosing the number of syllables in the words you speak. You probably have never considered this option before, but you have it every time you open your mouth and speak. You make so many choices like this that you never even think about, but you have the choice with each one. What are you going to do with this knowledge?

He sat across from her trying to imagine it was the first time. It wasn't. Had it been a hundred? It quite possibly could have been. Two hundred? Probably not. His mind wandered until he caught himself and again tried to imagine it was the first time.

I don't like cats and they don't like me. I used to be allergic to them and I would get stuffed up and have hives. That doesn't seem to happen anymore. But I still don't like them. I lived with 3 cats that were not good at peeing in the litter box. They seemed to find something important to me and pee on it. Most of the time they peed on photographs or papers that would be ruined. Cats also bring fleas into the house. There is nothing worse than having to flea dip cats and also flea bomb a home. That is why I don't like cats.

It was supposed to be a dream vacation. They had planned it over a year in advance so that it would be perfect in every way. It had been what they had been looking forward to through all the turmoil and negativity around them. It had been the light at the end of both their tunnels. Now that the dream vacation was only a week away, the virus had stopped all air travel.

"It doesn't take much to touch someone's heart," Daisy said with a smile on her face. "It's often just the little things you do that can change a person's day for the better." Daisy truly believed this to be the way the world worked, but she didn't understand that she was merely a robot that had been programmed to believe this.

"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.

There was something in the tree. It was difficult to tell from the ground, but Rachael could see movement. She squinted her eyes and peered in the direction of the movement, trying to decipher exactly what she had spied. The more she peered, however, the more she thought it might be a figment of her imagination. Nothing seemed to move until the moment she began to take her eyes off the tree. Then in the corner of her eye, she would see the movement again and begin the process of staring again.

There was a reason for her shyness. Everyone assumed it had always been there but she knew better. She knew the exact moment that the shyness began. It had been that fateful moment at the lake. There are just some events that do that to you.

She didn't understand how changed worked. When she looked at today compared to yesterday, there was nothing that she could see that was different. Yet, when she looked at today compared to last year, she couldn't see how anything was ever the same.

If you can imagine a furry humanoid seven feet tall, with the face of an intelligent gorilla and the braincase of a man, you'll have a rough idea of what they looked like -- except for their teeth. The canines would have fitted better in the face of a tiger, and showed at the corners of their wide, thin-lipped mouths, giving them an expression of ferocity.

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.

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.

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.

They argue. While the argument seems to be different the truth is it's always the same. Yes, the topic may be different or the circumstances, but when all said and done, it all came back to the same thing. They both knew it, but neither has the courage or strength to address the underlying issue. So they continue to argue.

It all started with a random letter. Several of those were joined forces to create a random word. The words decided to get together and form a random sentence. They decided not to stop there and it wasn't long before a random paragraph had been cobbled together. The question was whether or not they could continue the momentum long enough to create a random short story.

The chair sat in the corner where it had been for over 25 years. The only difference was there was someone actually sitting in it. How long had it been since someone had done that? Ten years or more he imagined. Yet there was no denying the presence in the chair now.

It wasn't quite yet time to panic. There was still time to salvage the situation. At least that is what she was telling himself. The reality was that it was time to panic and there wasn't time to salvage the situation, but he continued to delude himself into believing there was.

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.

I recollect that my first exploit in squirrel-shooting was in a grove of tall walnut-trees that shades one side of the valley. I had wandered into it at noontime, when all nature is peculiarly quiet, and was startled by the roar of my own gun, as it broke the Sabbath stillness around and was prolonged and reverberated by the angry echoes.

Betty decided to write a short story and she was sure it was going to be amazing. She had already written it in her head and each time she thought about it she grinned from ear to ear knowing how wonderful it would be. She could imagine the accolades coming in and the praise she would receive for creating such a wonderful piece. She was therefore extremely frustrated when she actually sat down to write the short story and the story that was so beautiful inside her head refused to come out that way on paper.

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.

Twenty-five stars were neatly placed on the piece of paper. There was room for five more stars but they would be difficult ones to earn. It had taken years to earn the first twenty-five, and they were considered the "easy" ones.

Mary had to make a decision and she knew that whatever decision she made, it would upset someone. It seemed like such a silly reason for people to get upset but she knew the minute that she began to consider doing it that there was no way everyone in her life would be pleased with what she ultimately decided to do. It was simply a question of who she would rather displease most. While this had always been her parents, and especially her mom, in the past that she tried to keep from upsetting, she decided that this time the person she was going to please the most with her decision was herself.

Colors bounced around in her head. They mixed and threaded themselves together. Even colors that had no business being together. They were all one, yet distinctly separate at the same time. How was she going to explain this to the others?

She was in a hurry. Not the standard hurry when you're in a rush to get someplace, but a frantic hurry. The type of hurry where a few seconds could mean life or death. She raced down the road ignoring speed limits and weaving between cars. She was only a few minutes away when traffic came to a dead standstill on the road ahead.

She never liked cleaning the sink. It was beyond her comprehension how it got so dirty so quickly. It seemed that she was forced to clean it every other day. Even when she was extra careful to keep things clean and orderly, it still ended up looking like a mess in a couple of days. What she didn't know was there was a tiny creature living in it that didn't like things neat.

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.

It was a simple tip of the hat. Grace didn't think that anyone else besides her had even noticed it. It wasn't anything that the average person would notice, let alone remember at the end of the day. That's why it seemed so unbelievable that this little gesture would ultimately change the course of the world.

She tried not to judge him. His ratty clothes and unkempt hair made him look homeless. Was he really the next Einstein as she had been told? On the off chance it was true, she continued to try not to judge him.

Peter always saw the world in black and white. 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 couldn't move. His head throbbed and spun. He couldn't decide if it was the flu or the drinking last night. It was probably a combination of both.

It was a rat's nest. Not a literal one, but that is what her hair seemed to resemble every morning when she got up. It was going to take at least an hour to get it under control and she was sick and tired of it. She peered into the mirror and wondered if it was worth it. It wasn't. She opened the drawer and picked up the hair clippers.

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.

Debbie put her hand into the hole, sliding her hand down as far as her arm could reach. She wiggled her fingers hoping to touch something, but all she felt was air. She shifted the weight of her body to try and reach an inch or two more down the hole. Her fingers still touched nothing but air.

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.

It was a simple green chair. There was nothing extraordinary about it or so it seemed. It was the type of chair one would pass without even noticing it was there, let alone what the actual color of it was. It was due to this common and unassuming appearance that few people actually stopped to sit in it and discover its magical powers.

There was a time in his life when her rudeness would have set him over the edge. He would have raised his voice and demanded to speak to the manager. That was no longer the case. He barely reacted at all, letting the rudeness melt away without saying a word back to her. He had been around long enough to know where rudeness came from and how unhappy the person must be to act in that way. All he could do was feel pity and be happy that he didn't feel the way she did to lash out like that.

The irony of the situation hadn't escaped her. She had taken years to sculpt the perfect persona with the perfect look that she shared on Instagram. She knew her hundreds of thousands of followers envied that life she showed and stayed engaged with her because they wanted that life too. The truth was that she wanted the perfect life she portrayed more than any of her fans. The fact was that despite all the perfection she shared on social media, her life was actually more of a mess than most.

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.

She had come to the conclusion that you could tell a lot about a person by their ears. The way they stuck out and the size of the earlobes could give you wonderful insights into the person. Of course, she couldn't scientifically prove any of this, but that didn't matter to her. Before anything else, she would size up the ears of the person she was talking to.

The time to take action was now. All three men knew in their hearts this was the case, yet none of them moved a muscle to try. They were all watching and waiting for one of the others to make the first move so they could follow a step or two behind and help. The situation demanded a leader and all three men were followers.

"It was so great to hear from you today and it was such weird timing," he said. "This is going to sound funny and a little strange, but you were in a dream I had just a couple of days ago. I'd love to get together and tell you about it if you're up for a cup of coffee," he continued, laying the trap he'd been planning for years.

Puppies are soft, cute, funny, and make a big mess. Every month or two our family fosters 6-12 week old puppies for a puppy rescue nonprofit organization. We all enjoy cuddling their furry bodies after a clean bath. Fresh puppy smell is great. The puppies play with each other and our adult dog. They look so funny when they lay on top of each other and sleep. While puppies can be great fun, they also can make big messes. 4-6 puppies can make a lot of puppy pee and poop. It's a challenge to keep the puppies and the puppy pen clean.

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.

He collected the plastic trash on a daily basis. It never seemed to end. Even if he cleaned the entire beach, more plastic would cover it the next day after the tide had come in. Although it was a futile effort that would never be done, he continued to pick up the trash each day.

Do you think you're living an ordinary life? You are so mistaken it's difficult to even explain. The mere fact that you exist makes you extraordinary. The odds of you existing are less than winning the lottery, but here you are. Are you going to let this extraordinary opportunity pass?

There were two things that were important to Tracey. The first was her dog. Anyone that had ever met Tracey knew how much she loved her dog. Most would say that she treated it as her child. The dog went everywhere with her and it had been her best friend for the past five years. The second thing that was important to Tracey, however, would be a lot more surprising to most people.

The clowns had taken over. And yes, they were literally clowns. Over 100 had appeared out of a small VW bug that had been driven up to the bank. Now they were all inside and had taken it over.

He had disappointed himself more than anyone else. That wasn't to say that he hadn't disappointed others. The fact was that he had disappointed a lot of people who were close to him. The fact that they were disappointed in him was something that made him even more disappointed in himself. Yet here he was, about to do the exact same things that had caused all the disappointment in the first place because he didn't know what else to do.

She's asked the question so many times that she barely listened to the answers anymore. The answers were always the same. Well, not exactly the same, but the same in a general sense. A more accurate description was the answers never surprised her. So, she asked for the 10,000th time, "What's your favorite animal?" But this time was different. When she heard the young boy's answer, she wondered if she had heard him correctly.

It was going to rain. The weather forecast didn't say that, but the steel plate in his hip did. He had learned over the years to trust his hip over the weatherman. It was going to rain, so he better get outside and prepare.

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.

Patricia's friend who was here hardly had any issues at all, but she wasn't telling the truth. Yesterday, before she left to go home, she heard that her husband is in the hospital and pretended to be surprised. It later came out that she was the person who had put him there.

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.

The bush began to shake. Brad couldn't see what was causing it to shake, but he didn't care. he had a pretty good idea about what was going on and what was happening. He was so confident that he approached the bush carefree and with a smile on his face. That all changed the instant he realized what was actually behind the bush.

Eating raw fish didn't sound like a good idea. "It's a delicacy in Japan," didn't seem to make it any more appetizing. Raw fish is raw fish, delicacy or not.

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.

The answer was within her reach. It was hidden in a box and now that box sat directly in front of her. She'd spent years searching for it and could hardly believe she'd finally managed to find it. She turned the key to unlock the box and then gently lifted the top. She held her breath in anticipation of finally knowing the answer she had spent so much of her time in search of. As the lid came off she could see that the box was empty.

The alarm went off and Jake rose awake. Rising early had become a daily ritual, one that he could not fully explain. From the outside, it was a wonder that he was able to get up so early each morning for someone who had absolutely no plans to be productive during the entire day.

The trail to the left had a "Danger! Do Not Pass" sign telling people to take the trail to the right. This wasn't the way Zeke approached his hiking. Rather than a warning, Zeke read the sign as an invitation to explore an area that would be adventurous and exciting. As the others in the group all shited to the right, Zeke slipped past the danger sign to begin an adventure he would later regret.

Should he write it down? That was the question running through his mind. He couldn't believe what had just happened and he knew nobody else would believe him as well. Even if he documented what had happened by writing it down, he still didn't believe anyone would still believe it. So the question remained. Was it be worth it to actually write it down?

At that moment he had a thought that he'd never imagine he'd consider. "I could just cheat," he thought, "and that would solve the problem." He tried to move on from the thought but it was persistent. It didn't want to go away and, if he was honest with himself, he didn't want it to.

Dragons don't exist they said. They are the stuff of legend and people's imagination. Greg would have agreed with this assessment without a second thought 24 hours ago. But now that there was a dragon staring directly into his eyes, he questioned everything that he had been told.

It was always the Monday mornings. It never seemed to happen on Tuesday morning, Wednesday morning, or any other morning during the week. But it happened every Monday morning like clockwork. He mentally prepared himself to once again deal with what was about to happen, but this time he also placed a knife in his pocket just in case.

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.

Twenty-five hours had passed since the incident. It seemed to be a lot longer than that. That twenty-five hours seemed more like a week in her mind. The fact that she still was having trouble comprehending exactly what took place wasn't helping the matter. She thought if she could just get a little rest the entire incident might make a little more sense.

He watched as the young man tried to impress everyone in the room with his intelligence. There was no doubt that he was smart. The fact that he was more intelligent than anyone else in the room could have been easily deduced, but nobody was really paying any attention due to the fact that it was also obvious that the young man only cared about his intelligence.

She didn't like the food. She never did. She made the usual complaints and started the tantrum he knew was coming. But this time was different. Instead of trying to placate her and her unreasonable demands, he just stared at her and watched her meltdown without saying a word.

Dave watched as the forest burned up on the hill, only a few miles from her house. The car had been hastily packed and Marta was inside trying to round up the last of the pets. Dave went through his mental list of the most important papers and documents that they couldn't leave behind. He scolded himself for not having prepared these better in advance and hoped that he had remembered everything that was needed. He continued to wait for Marta to appear with the pets, but she still was nowhere to be seen.

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.

He was after the truth. At least, that's what he told himself. He believed it, but any rational person on the outside could see he was lying to himself. It was apparent he was really only after his own truth that he'd already decided and was after this truth because the facts didn't line up with the truth he wanted. So he continued to tell everyone he was after the truth oblivious to the real truth sitting right in front of him.

There were about twenty people on the dam. Most of them were simply walking and getting exercise. There were a few who were fishing. There was a family who had laid down a blanket and they were having a picnic. It was like this most days and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The problem was that nobody noticed the water leaking through the dam wall.

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.

Her mom had warned her. She had been warned time and again, but she had refused to believe her. She had done everything right and she knew she would be rewarded for doing so with the promotion. So when the promotion was given to her main rival, it not only stung, it threw her belief system into disarray. It was her first big lesson in life, but not the last.

He picked up the burnt end of the branch and made a mark on the stone. Day 52 if the marks on the stone were accurate. He couldn't be sure. Day and nights had begun to blend together creating confusion, but he knew it was a long time. Much too long.

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.

Finding the truth wouldn't be easy, that's for sure. Then there was the question of whether or not Jane really wanted to know the truth. That's the thing that bothered her most. It wasn't the difficulty of actually finding out what happened that was the obstacle, but having to live with that information once it was found.

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.

They needed to find a place to eat. The kids were beginning to get grumpy in the back seat and if they didn't find them food soon, it was just a matter of time before they were faced with a complete meltdown. Even knowing this, the solution wasn't easy. Everyone in the car had a different opinion on where the best place to eat would be with nobody agreeing with the suggestions of the others. It seemed to be an impossible no-win situation where not everyone would be happy no matter where they decided to eat which in itself would lead to a meltdown. Yet a decision needed to be made and it needed to be made quickly.

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.

It's always good to bring a slower friend with you on a hike. If you happen to come across bears, the whole group doesn't have to worry. Only the slowest in the group do. That was the lesson they were about to learn that day.

Patrick didn't want to go. The fact that she was insisting they must go made him want to go even less. He had no desire to make small talk with strangers he would never again see just to be polite. But she insisted that Patrick go, and she would soon find out that this would be the biggest mistake she could make in their relationship.

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.

Sometimes it's the first moment of the day that catches you off guard. That's what Wendy was thinking. She opened her window to see fire engines screeching down the street. While this wasn't something completely unheard of, it also wasn't normal. It was a sure sign of what was going to happen that day. She could feel it in her bones and it wasn't the way she wanted the day to begin.

Don't be scared. The things out there that are unknown aren't scary in themselves. They are just unknown at the moment. Take the time to know them before you list them as scary. Then the world will be a much less scary place for you.

The opened package of potato chips held the answer to the mystery. Both detectives looked at it but failed to realize it was the key to solve the crime. They passed by it assuming it was random trash ensuring that the case would never be solved.

Pink ponies and purple giraffes roamed the field. Cotton candy grew from the ground as a chocolate river meandered off to the side. What looked like stones in the pasture were actually rock candy. Everything in her dream seemed to be perfect except for the fact that she had no mouth.

With six children in tow, Catherine raced to the airport departing gate. This wasn't an easy task as the children had other priorities than to get to the gate. She knew that she was tight on time and the frustration came out as she yelled at the kids to keep up. They continued to test her, pretending not to listen and to move in directions that only slowed them down. They had no idea the wrath they were about to receive when Catherine made it to the gate only to be informed that they had all missed the plane.

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.

He slowly poured the drink over a large chunk of ice he has especially chiseled off a larger block. He didn't particularly like his drinks cold, but he knew that the drama of chiseling the ice and then pouring a drink over it looked far more impressive than how he actually liked it. It was all about image and he'd managed to perfect the image that he wanted to project.

Sometimes there isn't a good answer. No matter how you try to rationalize the outcome, it doesn't make sense. And instead of an answer, you are simply left with a question. Why?

The towels had been hanging from the rod for years. They were stained and worn, and quite frankly, just plain ugly. Debra didn't want to touch them but she really didn't have a choice. It was important for her to see what was living within them.

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.

The headphones were on. They had been utilized on purpose. She could hear her mom yelling in the background, but couldn't make out exactly what the yelling was about. That was exactly why she had put them on. She knew her mom would enter her room at any minute, and she could pretend that she hadn't heard any of the previous yelling.

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.

One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas...

The boxed moved. That was a problem. Peter had packed the box three hours before and there was nothing inside that should make it move. The question now was whether or not Peter was going to open it up and look inside to see why it had moved. The answer to that question was obvious. Peter dropped the package into the mailbox so he would never have to see it again.

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.

It's not his fault. I know you're going to want to, but you can't blame him. He really has no idea how it happened. I kept trying to come up with excuses I could say to mom that would keep her calm when she found out what happened, but the more I tried, the more I could see none of them would work. He was going to get her wrath and there was nothing I could say to prevent it.

Waiting and watching. It was all she had done for the past weeks. When you're locked in a room with nothing but food and drink, that's about all you can do anyway. She watched as birds flew past the window bolted shut. She couldn't reach it if she wanted too, with that hole in the floor. She thought she could escape through it but three stories is a bit far down.

The song came from the bathroom belting over the sound of the shower's running water. It was the same way each day began since he could remember. It listened intently and concluded that the singing today was as terrible as it had ever been.

I checked in for the night at Out O The Way motel. What a bad choice that was. First I took a shower and a spider crawled out of the drain. Next, the towel rack fell down when I reached for the one small bath towel. This allowed the towel to fall halfway into the toilet. I tried to watch a movie, but the remote control was sticky and wouldn't stop scrolling through the channels. I gave up for the night and crawled into bed. I stretched out my leg and felt something furry by my foot. Filled with fear, I reached down and to my surprise, I pulled out a raccoon skin pair of underwear. After my initial relief that it wasn't alive, the image of a fat, ugly businessman wearing raccoon skin briefs filled my brain. I jumped out of the bed, threw my toothbrush into my bag, and sprinted towards my car.

The piano sat silently in the corner of the room. Nobody could remember the last time it had been played. The little girl walked up to it and hit a few of the keys. The sound of the piano rang throughout the house for the first time in years. In the upstairs room, confined to her bed, the owner of the house had tears in her eyes.

He wandered down the stairs and into the basement. The damp, musty smell of unuse hung in the air. A single, small window let in a glimmer of light, but this simply made the shadows in the basement deeper. He inhaled deeply and looked around at a mess that had been accumulating for over 25 years. He was positive that this was the place he wanted to live.

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.

This is important to remember. Love isn't like pie. You don't need to divide it among all your friends and loved ones. No matter how much love you give, you can always give more. It doesn't run out, so don't try to hold back giving it as if it may one day run out. Give it freely and as much as you want.

He wondered if he should disclose the truth to his friends. It would be a risky move. Yes, the truth would make things a lot easier if they all stayed on the same page, but the truth might fracture the group leaving everything in even more of a mess than it was not telling the truth. It was time to decide which way to go.

He heard the loud impact before he ever saw the result. It had been so loud that it had actually made him jump back in his seat. As soon as he recovered from the surprise, he saw the crack in the windshield. It seemed to be an analogy of the current condition of his life.

I'm heading back to Colorado tomorrow after being down in Santa Barbara over the weekend for the festival there. I will be making October plans once there and will try to arrange so I'm back here for the birthday if possible. I'll let you know as soon as I know the doctor's appointment schedule and my flight plans.

He walked down the steps from the train station in a bit of a hurry knowing the secrets in the briefcase must be secured as quickly as possible. Bounding down the steps, he heard something behind him and quickly turned in a panic. There was nobody there but a pair of old worn-out shoes were placed neatly on the steps he had just come down. Had he past them without seeing them? It didn't seem possible. He was about to turn and be on his way when a deep chill filled his body.

It's an unfortunate reality that we don't teach people how to make money (beyond getting a 9 to 5 job) as part of our education system. The truth is there are a lot of different, legitimate ways to make money. That doesn't mean they are easy and that you won't have to work hard to succeed, but it does mean that if you're willing to open your mind a bit you don't have to be stuck in an office from 9 to 5 for the next fifty years o your life.

To the two friends, the treehouse was much more than a treehouse. It was a sanctuary away from the other kids where they could be themselves without being teased or bullied. It was their secret fortress hidden high in the branches of a huge oak that only they knew existed. At least that is what they thought. They were more than a little annoyed when their two younger sisters decided to turn the treehouse into a princess castle by painting the inside pink and putting glitter everywhere.

They decided to find the end of the rainbow. While they hoped they would find a pot of gold, neither of them truly believed that the mythical pot would actually be there. Nor did they believe they could actually find the end of the rainbow. Still, it seemed like a fun activity for the day, and pictures of them chasing rainbows would look great on their Instagram accounts. They would have never believed they would actually find the end of a rainbow, and when they did, what they actually found there.

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.

The thing that's great about this job is the time sourcing the items involves no traveling. I just look online to buy it. It's really as simple as that. While everyone else is searching for what they can sell, I sit in front of my computer and buy better stuff for less money and spend a fraction of the time doing it.

Breastfeeding is good for babies and moms. Infants that are breastfed get antibodies from their mothers against common illnesses. Breastfed babies have less chance of being obese as an adult. Breastfeeding a baby lets the infant-mother pair bond in a very unique way. Mother's who breastfeed lower their chances of developing breast cancer. Usually, mothers who breastfeed lose their pregnancy weight more quickly and easily. The benefits of breastfeeding are numerous.

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.

The wave crashed and hit the sandcastle head-on. The sandcastle began to melt under the waves force and as the wave receded, half the sandcastle was gone. The next wave hit, not quite as strong, but still managed to cover the remains of the sandcastle and take more of it away. The third wave, a big one, crashed over the sandcastle completely covering and engulfing it. When it receded, there was no trace the sandcastle ever existed and hours of hard work disappeared forever.

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.

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.

I've rented a car in Las Vegas and have reserved a hotel in Twentynine Palms which is just north of Joshua Tree. We'll drive from Las Vegas through Mojave National Preserve and possibly do a short hike on our way down. Then spend all day on Monday at Joshua Tree. We can decide the next morning if we want to do more in Joshua Tree or Mojave before we head back.

Benny was tired. Not the normal every day tired from a hard day o work. The exhausted type of tired where you're surprised your body can even move. All he wanted to do was sit in front of the TV, put his feet up on the coffee table, and drink a beer. The only issue was that he had forgotten where he lived.

He heard the crack echo in the late afternoon about a mile away. His heart started racing and he bolted into a full sprint. "It wasn't a gunshot, it wasn't a gunshot," he repeated under his breathlessness as he continued to sprint.

Sitting in the sun, away from everyone who had done him harm in the past, he quietly listened to those who roamed by. He felt at peace in the moment, hoping it would last, but knowing the reprieve would soon come to an end. He closed his eyes, the sun beating down on face and he smiled. He smiled for the first time in as long as he could remember.

The red ball sat proudly at the top of the toybox. It had been the last to be played with and anticipated it would be the next as well. The other toys grumbled beneath. At one time each had held the spot of the red ball, but over time they had sunk deeper and deeper into the toy box.

There was only one way to do things in the Statton house. That one way was to do exactly what the father, Charlie, demanded. He made the decisions and everyone else followed without question. That was until today.

It was the first day of the rest of her life. This wasn't the day she was actually born, but she knew that nothing would be the same from this day forward. Although this was a bit scary to her, it was also extremely freeing. Her past was no longer a burden or something that she needed to be concerned about and defend. She threw off the covers keeping her warm in bed, placed her feet over the side of the bed, slipped on her slipper, and took the first step of the first day of her new life.

At that moment, she realized that she had created her current life. It wasn't the life she wanted, but she took responsibility for how it currently stood. Something clicked and she saw that every choice she made to this point in her life had led to where her life stood at this very moment even if she knew this wasn't where she wanted to be. She determined to choose to change it.

The rain was coming. Everyone thought this would be a good thing. It hadn't rained in months and the earth was dry as a bone. It wasn't a surprise that everyone thought a good rain was what was needed, but they never expected how much rain would actually arrive.

"Explain to me again why I shouldn't cheat?" he asked. "All the others do and nobody ever gets punished for doing so. I should go about being happy losing to cheaters because I know that I don't? That's what you're telling me?"

There was something beautiful in his hate. It wasn't the hate itself as it was a disgusting display of racism and intolerance. It was what propelled the hate and the fact that although he had this hate, he didn't understand where it came from. It was at that moment that she realized that there was hope in changing him.

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.

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.

I haven't bailed on writing. Look, I'm generating a random paragraph at this very moment in an attempt to get my writing back on track. I am making an effort. I will start writing consistently again!

There was no ring on his finger. That was a good sign although far from proof that he was available. Still, it was much better than if he had been wearing a wedding ring on his hand. She glanced at his hand a bit more intently to see if there were any tan lines where a ring may have been, and he's simply taken it off. She couldn't detect any which was also a good sign and a relief. The next step would be to get access to his wallet to see if there were any family photos in it.

What if dogs were racist? Would they care about fur color….. "son, only play with other tan dogs"? Or maybe it would depend on breed, "honey, only play with other German Shepards, never poodles". Better yet it could depend on occupation. "I'm a sled dog while you're only a running companion, leave me alone". Maybe the neighborhood they live in could be the way they choose which dogs to associate with and which to shun? Size could be the determining factor, "see how tall that dog is, they are probably dumb". Luckily dogs don't discriminate. Just watch at a dog park. Big black and white dogs wag their tails and play with tiny tan dogs. A service dog chases after the same ball as the off-duty police dog. So if dogs don't discriminate then why do we?

It was easy to spot her. All you needed to do was look at her socks. They were never a matching pair. One would be green while the other would be blue. One would reach her knee while the other barely touched her ankle. Every other part of her was perfect, but never the socks. They were her micro act of rebellion.

Her breath exited her mouth in big puffs as if she were smoking a cigarette. The morning dew had made her clothes damp and she shivered from the chill in the air. There was only one thing that could get her up and out this early in the morning.

The water rush down the wash and into the slot canyon below. Two hikers had started the day to sunny weather without a cloud in the sky, but they hadn't thought to check the weather north of the canyon. Huge thunderstorms had brought a deluge o rain and produced flash floods heading their way. The two hikers had no idea what was coming.

Life isn't always beautiful. That was a lesson that Dan was learning. He also realized that life wasn't easy. This had come as a shock since he had lived a charmed life. He hated that this was the truth and he struggled to be happy knowing that his assumptions weren't correct. He wouldn't realize until much later in life that the difficult obstacles he was facing that were taking away the beauty in his life at this moment would ultimately make his life much more beautiful. All he knew was that at this moment was that life isn't always beautiful.

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.

The amber droplet hung from the branch, reaching fullness and ready to drop. It waited. While many of the other droplets were satisfied to form as big as they could and release, this droplet had other plans. It wanted to be part of history. It wanted to be remembered long after all the other droplets had dissolved into history. So it waited for the perfect specimen to fly by to trap and capture that it hoped would eventually be discovered hundreds of years in the future.

MaryLou wore the tiara with pride. There was something that made doing anything she didn't really want to do a bit easier when she wore it. She really didn't care what those staring through the window were thinking as she vacuumed her apartment.

Finding the red rose in the mailbox was a pleasant surprise for Sarah. She didn't have a boyfriend or know of anyone who was interested in her as anything more than a friend. There wasn't even a note attached to it. Although it was a complete mystery, it still made her heart jump and race a little more than usual. She wished that she could simply accept the gesture and be content knowing someone had given it to her, but that wasn't the way Sarah did things. Now it was time to do a little detective work and try to figure who had actually left the red rose.

Terrance knew that sometimes it was simply best to stay out of it. He kept repeating this to himself as he watched the scene unfold. He knew that nothing good would come of him getting involved. It was far better for him to stay on the sidelines and observe. He kept yelling this to himself inside his head as he walked over to the couple and punched the man in the face.

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.

Frank knew there was a correct time and place to reveal his secret and this wasn't it. The issue was that the secret might be revealed despite his best attempt to keep it from coming out. At this point, it was out of his control and completely dependant on those around him who also knew the secret. They wouldn't purposely reveal it, or at least he believed that, but they could easily inadvertently expose it. It was going to be a long hour as he nervously eyed everyone around the table hoping they would keep their mouths shut.

He swung back the fishing pole and cast the line which ell 25 feet away into the river. The lure landed in the perfect spot and he was sure he would soon get a bite. He never expected that the bite would come from behind in the form of a bear.

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.

I haven't bailed on writing. Look, I'm generating a random paragraph at this very moment in an attempt to get my writing back on track. I am making an effort. I will start writing consistently again!

What was beyond the bend in the stream was unknown. Both were curious, but only one was brave enough to want to explore. That was the problem. There was always one that let fear rule her life.

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.

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.

The red glint of paint sparkled under the sun. He had dreamed of owning this car since he was ten, and that dream had become a reality less than a year ago. It was his baby and he spent hours caring for it, pampering it, and fondling over it. She knew this all too well, and that's exactly why she had taken a sludge hammer to it.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Have you ever wondered about toes? Why 10 toes and not 12. Why are some bigger than others? Some people can use their toes to pick up things while others can barely move them on command. Some toes are nice to look at while others are definitely not something you want to look at. Toes can be stubbed and make us scream. Toes help us balance and walk. 10 toes are just something to ponder.

He looked at the sand. Picking up a handful, he wondered how many grains were in his hand. Hundreds of thousands? "Not enough," the said under his breath. I need more.

There was little doubt that the bridge was unsafe. All one had to do was look at it to know that with certainty. Yet Bob didn't see another option. He may have been able to work one out if he had a bit of time to think things through, but time was something he didn't have. A choice needed to be made, and it needed to be made quickly.

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.

It wasn't supposed to end that way. The plan had been meticulously thought out and practiced again and again. There was only one possible result once it had been implemented, but as they stood there the result wasn't anything close to what it should have been. They all blankly looked at each wondering how this could have happened. In their minds, they all began to blame the other members of the group as to why they had failed.

He sat staring at the person in the train stopped at the station going in the opposite direction. She sat staring ahead, never noticing that she was being watched. Both trains began to move and he knew that in another timeline or in another universe, they had been happy together.

There was a time and a place for Stephanie to use her magic. The problem was that she had a difficult time determining this. She wished she could simply use it when the desire hit and there wouldn't be any unforeseen consequences. Unfortunately, that's not how it worked and the consequences could be devastating if she accidentally used her magic at the wrong time.

The cab arrived late. The inside was in as bad of shape as the outside which was concerning, and it didn't appear that it had been cleaned in months. The green tree air-freshener hanging from the rearview mirror was either exhausted of its scent or not strong enough to overcome the other odors emitting from the cab. The correct decision, in this case, was to get the hell out of it and to call another cab, but she was late and didn't have a choice.

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.

According to the caption on the bronze marker placed by the Multnomah Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution on May 12, 1939, "College Hall (is) the oldest building in continuous use for Educational purposes west of the Rocky Mountains. Here were educated men and women who have won recognition throughout the world in all the learned professions."

It was cloudy outside but not really raining. There was a light sprinkle at most and there certainly wasn't a need for an umbrella. This hadn't stopped Sarah from pulling her umbrella out and opening it. It had nothing to do with the weather or the potential rain later that day. Sarah used the umbrella to hide.

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