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.

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.

He ordered his regular breakfast. Two eggs sunnyside up, hash browns, and two strips of bacon. He

continued to look at the menu wondering if this would be the day he added something new. This

was also part of the routine. A few seconds of hesitation to see if something else would be added to

the order before demuring and saying that would be all. It was the same exact meal that he had

ordered every day for the past two years.

What have you noticed today? I noticed that if you outline the eyes, nose, and mouth on your face

with your finger, you make an "I" which makes perfect sense, but is something I never noticed

before. What have you noticed today?

I'm going to hire professional help tomorrow. I can't handle this anymore. She fell over the coffee

table and now there is blood in her catheter. This is much more than I ever signed up to do.

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.

She trusted her friend, but so much could happen. She waited impatiently for word.

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.

Cake or pie? I can tell a lot about you by which one you pick. It may seem silly, but cake people and

pie people are really different. I know which one I hope you are, but that's not for me to decide. So,

what is it? Cake or pie?

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.

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.

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.

I recently discovered I could make fudge with just chocolate chips, sweetened condensed milk,

vanilla extract, and a thick pot on slow heat. I tried it with dark chocolate chunks and I tried it with

semi-sweet chocolate chips. It's better with both kinds. It comes out pretty bad with just the dark

chocolate. The best add-ins are crushed almonds and marshmallows -- what you get from that is
Rocky Road. It takes about twenty minutes from start to fridge, and then it takes about six months to

work off the twenty pounds you gain from eating it. All things in moderation, friends. All things in

moderation.

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.

I guess we could discuss the implications of the phrase "meant to be." That is if we wanted to drown

ourselves in a sea of backwardly referential semantics and other mumbo-jumbo. Maybe such a

discussion would result in the determination that "meant to be" is exactly as meaningless a phrase

as it seems to be, and that none of us is actually meant to be doing anything at all. But that's my

existential underpants underpinnings showing. It's the way the cookie crumbles. And now I want a

cookie.

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.

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 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.

"Begin today!" That's all the note said. There was no indication from where it came or who may have

written it. Had it been meant for someone else? Meghan looked around the room, but nobody made

eye contact back. For a brief moment, she thought it might be a message for her to follow her

dreams, but ultimately decided it was easier to ignore it as she crumpled it up and threw it away.

Hopes and dreams were dashed that day. It should have been expected, but it still came as a

shock. The warning signs had been ignored in favor of the possibility, however remote, that it could

actually happen. That possibility had grown from hope to an undeniable belief it must be destiny.

That was until it wasn't and the hopes and dreams came crashing down.