Peter dropped a box that had moved on its own into a mailbox so he wouldn't have to open it. Samantha wanted fame but didn't consider the downsides. A person reflects that just existing makes one's life extraordinary and not to waste the opportunity. A woman prepares to defend herself with keys in her fist from an approaching mother bear and cubs.

1. WILL OF THE GRASS
CHAPTER 2
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.
Samantha wanted to be famous. The problem was that she had never considered all the
downsides to actually being famous. Had she taken the time to objectively consider these
downsides, she would have never agreed to publically sing that first song.
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?
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.
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.
She glanced up into the sky to watch the clouds taking shape. First, she saw a dog. Next, it was
an elephant. Finally, she saw a giant umbrella and at that moment the rain began to pour.
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.
What were the chances? It would have to be a lot more than 100 to 1. It was likely even more
than 1,000 to 1. The more he thought about it, the odds of it happening had to be more than
10,000 to 1 and even 100,000 to 1. People often threw around the chances of something
happening as being 1,000,000 to 1 as an exaggeration of an unlikely event, but he could see
that they may actually be accurate in this situation. Whatever the odds of it happening, he
knew they were big. What he didn't know was whether this happening was lucky or unlucky.
Sleep deprivation causes all sorts of challenges and problems. When one doesn’t get enough
sleep one’s mind doesn’t work clearly. Studies have shown that after staying awake for 24
hours one’s ability to do simple math is greatly impaired. Driving tired has been shown to be as
bad as driving drunk. Moods change, depression, anxiety, and mania can be induced by lack of

2. sleep. As much as people try to do without enough sleep it is a wonder more crazy things don’t
happen in this world.
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.
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.
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.
It was a weird concept. Why would I really need to generate a random paragraph? Could I
actually learn something from doing so? All these questions were running through her head as
she pressed the generate button. To her surprise, she found what she least expected to see.
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.
She had been an angel for coming up on 10 years and in all that time nobody had told her this
was possible. The fact that it could ever happen never even entered her mind. Yet there she
stood, with the undeniable evidence sitting on the ground before her. Angels could lose their
wings.
There had to be a better way. That's all Nancy could think as she sat at her desk staring at her
computer screen. She'd already spent five years of her life in this little cubicle staring at her
computer doing "work" that didn't seem to matter to anyone including her own boss. There
had to be more to her life than this and there had to be a better way to make a living. That's
what she was thinking when the earthquake struck.
She was infatuated with color. She didn't have a favorite color per se, but she did have a
fondness for teals and sea greens. You could see it in the clothes she wore that color was an
important part of her overall style. She took great pride that color flowed from her and that
color was always all around her. That is why, she explained to her date sitting across the table,
that she could never have a serious relationship with him due to the fact that he was colorblind.

3. 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!
Brock would have never dared to do it on his own he thought to himself. That is why Kenneth
and he had become such good friends. Kenneth forced Brock out of his comfort zone and made
him try new things he'd never imagine doing otherwise. Up to this point, this had been a good
thing. It had expanded Brock's experiences and given him a new appreciation for life. Now that
both of them were in the back of a police car, all Brock could think was that he would have
never dared do it except for the influence of Kenneth.
She asked the question even though she didn't really want to hear the answer. It was a no-win
situation since she already knew. If he told the truth, she'd get confirmation of her worst fears.
If he lied, she'd know that he wasn't who she thought he was which would be almost as bad.
Yet she asked the question anyway and waited for his answer.
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.
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.
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.
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 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.