There are only three ways to make this work. The first is to let me take care of everything.

The second is
for you to take care of everything. The third is to split everything 50 / 50. I think the last option is the
most preferable, but I'm certain it'll also mean the end of our marriage.

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.

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 sun’s 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

The computer wouldn't start. She banged on the side and tried again. Nothing. She lifted it up and
dropped it to the table. Still nothing. She banged her closed fist against the top. It was at this moment
she saw the irony of trying to fix the machine with violence.

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.

The shades were closed keeping the room dark. Peter knew that he should open them and let in the
sunlight so he could begin the day, but he didn't have the energy or willpower. Nothing had gone as
expected the day before and he no longer wanted to spend the energy to begin a new day. He stared at
the shades wondering if there was a way to disappear from the reality of the world for the rest of the
day.
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.

It was a question of which of the two she preferred. On the one hand, the choice seemed simple. The
more expensive one with a brand name would be the choice of most. It was the easy choice. The safe
choice. But she wasn't sure she actually preferred it.

The 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 young man wanted a role model. He looked long and hard in his youth, but that role model never
materialized. His only choice was to embrace all the people in his life he didn't want to be like.

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.

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.

Spending time at national parks can be an exciting adventure, but this wasn't the type of excitement she
was hoping to experience. As she contemplated the situation she found herself in, she knew she'd
gotten herself in a little more than she bargained for. It wasn't often that she found herself in a tree
staring down at a pack of wolves that were looking to make her their next meal.

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.

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.
There were a variety of ways to win the game. James had played it long enough to know most of them
and he could see what his opponent was trying to do. There was a simple counterattack that James
could use and the game should be his. He began deploying it with the confidence of a veteran player
who had been in this situation a thousand times in the past. So, it was with great surprise when his
opponent used a move he had never before seen or anticipated to easily defeat him in the game.