Strawberry and other Friedhöfe

There was nothing to indicate Nancy was going to change the world. She looked like an average
girl going to an average high school. It was the fact that everything about her seemed average that
would end up becoming her superpower.
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.
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.

Strawberry
• Dinosaur
• Pig
 • Duck

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.
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.
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.
 Don't forget that gifts often come with costs that go beyond their purchase price. When you
purchase a child the latest smartphone, you're also committing to a monthly phone bill. When you
purchase the latest gaming system, you're likely not going to be satisfied with the games that come
with it for long and want to purchase new titles to play. When you buy gifts it's important to
remember that some come with additional costs down the road that can be much more expensive
than the initial gift itself.
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.
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 patiently waited for his number to be called. She had no desire to be there, but her mom had
insisted that she go. She's resisted at first, but over time she realized it was simply easier to appease
her and go. Mom tended to be that way. She would keep insisting until you wore down and did what
she wanted. So, here she sat, patiently waiting for her number to be called.
A two-inch layer of freshly fallen snow covered the yard. Stacey peeked outside. To most, it would
have been a beautiful sight worthy of taking a photo to put on Instagram. For Stacey, it meant
something different. The first snow of the year brought back the witches as the fairies in the yard
had to seek shelter to avoid the cold.
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.
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.”
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.
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.
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.
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.
 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.
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.
She had been told time and time again that the most important steps were the first and the last. It
was something that she carried within her in everything she did, but then he showed up and
disrupted everything. He told her that she had it wrong. The first step wasn't the most important.
The last step wasn't the most important. It was the next step that was the most important.
She reached her goal, exhausted. Even more chilling to her was that the euphoria that she thought
she'd feel upon reaching it wasn't there. Something wasn't right. Was this the only feeling she'd have
for over five years of hard work?
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
She counted. One. She could hear the steps coming closer. Two. Puffs of breath could be seen
coming from his mouth. Three. He stopped beside her. Four. She pulled the trigger of the gun.
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.
Green vines attached to the trunk of the tree had wound themselves toward the top of the canopy.
Ants used the vine as their private highway, avoiding all the creases and crags of the bark, to freely
move at top speed from top to bottom or bottom to top depending on their current chore. At least
this was the way it was supposed to be. Something had damaged the vine overnight halfway up the
tree leaving a gap in the once pristine ant highway.
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.
There weren't supposed to be dragons flying in the sky. First and foremost, dragons didn't exist.
They were mythical creatures from fantasy books like unicorns. This was something that Pete knew
in his heart to be true so he was having a difficult time acknowledging that there were actually fire-
breathing dragons flying in the sky above him.
It was just a burger. Why couldn't she understand that? She knew he'd completely changed his life
around her eating habits, so why couldn't she give him a break this one time? She wasn't even
supposed to have found out. Yes, he had promised her and yes, he had broken that promise, but still
in his mind, all it had been was just a burger.
Where do they get a random paragraph?" he wondered as he clicked the generate button. Do they
just write a random paragraph or do they get it somewhere? At that moment he read the random
paragraph and realized it was about random paragraphs and his world would never be the same.
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.
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.
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.
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.
There was a leak in the boat. Nobody had yet noticed it, and nobody would for the next couple of
hours. This was a problem since the boat was heading out to sea and while the leak was quite small
at the moment, it would be much larger when it was ultimately discovered. John had planned it
exactly this way.
Balloons are pretty and come in different colors, different shapes, different sizes, and they can even
adjust sizes as needed. But don't make them too big or they might just pop, and then bye-bye
balloon. It'll be gone and lost for the rest of mankind. They can serve a variety of purposes, from
decorating to water balloon wars. You just have to use your head to think a little bit about what to
do with them.
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.
The picket fence had stood for years without any issue. That's all it was. A simple, white, picket
fence. Why it had all of a sudden become a lightning rod within the community was still
unbelievable to most. Yet a community that had once lived in harmony was now divided in bitter
hatred and it had everything to do with the white picket fence.
 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.
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.