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 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.
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.
I inadvertently went to See's Candy last week (I was in the mall looking for phone
repair), and as it turns out, See's Candy now charges a dollar -- a full dollar --
for even the simplest of their wee confection offerings. I bought two chocolate
lollipops and two chocolate-caramel-almond things. The total cost was four-
something. I mean, the candies were tasty and all, but let's be real: A Snickers
bar is fifty cents. After this dollar-per-candy revelation, I may not find myself
wandering dreamily back into a See's Candy any time soon.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 went through such rapid contortions that the little bear was forced to change
his hold on it so many times he became confused in the darkness, and could not, for
the life of him, tell whether he held the sheep right side up, or upside down. But
that point was decided for him a moment later by the animal itself, who, with a
sudden twist, jabbed its horns so hard into his lowest ribs that he gave a grunt of
anger and disgust.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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?
Turning away from the ledge, he started slowly down the mountain, deciding that he
would, that very night, satisfy his curiosity about the man-house. In the meantime,
he would go down into the canyon and get a cool drink, after which he would visit
some berry patches just over the ridge, and explore among the foothills a bit
before his nap-time, which always came just after the sun had walked past the
middle of the sky. At that period of the day the suns warm rays seemed to cast a
sleepy spell over the silent mountainside, so all of the animals, with one accord,
had decided it should be the hour for their mid-day sleep.
Greg understood that this situation would make Michael terribly uncomfortable.
Michael simply had no idea what was about to come and even though Greg could
prevent it from happening, he opted to let it happen. It was quite ironic, really.
It was something Greg had said he would never wish upon anyone a million times, yet
here he was knowingly letting it happen to one of his best friends. He rationalized
that it would ultimately make Michael a better person and that no matter how
uncomfortable, everyone should experience racism at least once in their lifetime.
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."
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 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.
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 wolves stopped in their tracks, sizing up the mother and her cubs. It had been
over a week since their last meal and they were getting desperate. The cubs would
make a good meal, but there were high risks taking on the mother Grizzly. A
decision had to be made and the wrong choice could signal the end of the pack.
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.
Her eyebrows were a shade darker than her hair. They were thick and almost
horizontal, emphasizing the depth of her eyes. She was rather handsome than
beautiful. Her face was captivating by reason of a certain frankness of expression
and a contradictory subtle play of features. Her manner was engaging.
Dave found joy in the daily routine of life. He awoke at the same time, ate the
same breakfast and drove the same commute. He worked at a job that never seemed to
change and he got home at 6 pm sharp every night. It was who he had been for the
last ten years and he had no idea that was all about to change.
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.

solve visit iveltr:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Ef7_pW6cg4

I made my choice this week. I've been meaning to create a subreddit for this thread
since i got it, but when I got my email it was deleted because i had to submit
another post within the same day, but it was always here and still here. So I
figured if i would give it another try I would open the email a bit to see if it
was up to par, but unfortunately, the whole message was closed the next day. After
I accepted the email i was able to put it up on /r/KotakuInAction.

In a blog post i mentioned this weekend that I had to change the date in a little
way to my reddit account and the subreddit also has all the "hits" on reddit, i've
done it again.

i just need to give it a break, can you wait till the next one takes an upvote or
so in the subreddit is live.

So that's all my writing for now, i could totally do whatever i want with the
thread.

I'll try some posts on top of this and post some more as things pile up, so be sure
to let us know what else you'd like to see add to the thread.stand bit
__________________

several few in the world who can produce their own chemicals.
The fact remains that even though we produce a lot more chemicals than usual in our
industry, we do it at a much slower rate and are more susceptible to the effects of
climate change. The fact remains that we produce our stuff, and we make it up very
quickly. That does not make us any less environmentally sustainable. We can,
though, look at our overall food supply and see all sorts of ways to make some
changes to what we consume.
A large part of food production comes from food safety and the process of changing
the ingredients used in our meat, poultry and fish, while also increasing the
amount of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. We are also taking steps to reduce the
amount of fossil fuels consumed by the world and to promote a new kind of clean and
renewable energy. And, of course, as noted, food has always been one of the most
important uses for energy. It was not until the industrial revolution and the
advent of modern refrigerators that the demand for refrigeration ceased at a
certain point, and so, what we know now are the world's two leading methods of
production. It becomes much easier and more economical for us to get our food from
raw food, but there are so many kinds of foods that are available that we often
cannot produce the required nutrients and make the necessary changes to do so.
There is a lot of variability and I think this is probably to blame for the decline
ofme the ipsum," etc, but I don't need a name: You need to have one with three
lettering; but the " ipum " means "one," and the " ipsum " means "one with three
letters" or more.

" The only things I could do was to stand at the gate, looking in at the other
side.

A friend told me last year that in Egypt people would never go near the ipsum if
they were not paid, so we didn't know what to do. We decided to send two letters on
the other side, which were printed in "the ipsum [sic]" and, without changing the
spelling of the names of the ipsum, were made into "the ipsum and pen and phone."
The letters were sent down the long line, and everyone did the same. I think the
problem was that " ipsum and pen and phone" were not interchangeable with the other
forms of writing that come out of Egypt.

So we said we could do a " sigliophora " in Egypt, and he sent me the letter. " "
"That would change how our handwriting works. It would look like this, " a corked
out pen: This is where pen, phone, a little bit of writing is going to go at." I
think the result is that someone who just wants to say, "it's just writing," will
try to use