His parents continued to question him.

He didn't know what to say to them since they refused to

believe the truth. He explained again and again, and they dismissed his explanation as a figment of

his imagination. There was no way that grandpa, who had been dead for five years, could have told

him where the treasure had been hidden. Of course, it didn't help that grandpa was roaring with

laughter in the chair next to him as he tried to explain once again how he'd found it.

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.

It was difficult to explain to them how the diagnosis of certain death had actually given him life. While

everyone around him was in tears and upset, he actually felt more at ease. The doctor said it would

be less than a year. That gave him a year to live, something he'd failed to do with his daily drudgery

of a routine that had passed as life until then.

It's not his fault. I know you're going to want to, but you can't blame him. He really has no idea how it

happened. I kept trying to come up with excuses I could say to mom that would keep her calm when

she found out what happened, but the more I tried, the more I could see none of them would work.

He was going to get her wrath and there was nothing I could say to prevent it.

He wondered if he should disclose the truth to his friends. It would be a risky move. Yes, the truth

would make things a lot easier if they all stayed on the same page, but the truth might fracture the

group leaving everything in even more of a mess than it was not telling the truth. It was time to

decide which way to go.

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.

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.

She looked at her little girl who was about to become a teen. She tried to think back to when the girl

had been younger but failed to pinpoint the exact moment when she had become a little too big to

pick up and carry. It hit her all at once. She was no longer a little girl and she stood there speechless

with fear, sadness, and pride all running through her at the same time.

She was in a hurry. Not the standard hurry when you're in a rush to get someplace, but a frantic

hurry. The type of hurry where a few seconds could mean life or death. She raced down the road

ignoring speed limits and weaving between cars. She was only a few minutes away when traffic

came to a dead standstill on the road ahead.

It's not his fault. I know you're going to want to, but you can't blame him. He really has no idea how it

happened. I kept trying to come up with excuses I could say to mom that would keep her calm when

she found out what happened, but the more I tried, the more I could see none of them would work.

He was going to get her wrath and there was nothing I could say to prevent it.

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.

The chair sat in the corner where it had been for over 25 years. The only difference was there was

someone actually sitting in it. How long had it been since someone had done that? Ten years or
more he imagined. Yet there was no denying the presence in the chair now.

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.

I'm meant to be writing at this moment. What I mean is, I'm meant to be writing something else at

this moment. The document I'm meant to be writing is, of course, open in another program on my

computer and is patiently awaiting my attention. Yet here I am plonking down senseless sentiments

in this paragraph because it's easier to do than to work on anything particularly meaningful. I am

grateful for the distraction.

His parents continued to question him. He didn't know what to say to them since they refused to

believe the truth. He explained again and again, and they dismissed his explanation as a figment of

his imagination. There was no way that grandpa, who had been dead for five years, could have told

him where the treasure had been hidden. Of course, it didn't help that grandpa was roaring with

laughter in the chair next to him as he tried to explain once again how he'd found it.

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.

The leather jacked showed the scars of being his favorite for years. It wore those scars with pride,

feeling that they enhanced his presence rather than diminishing it. The scars gave it character and

had not overwhelmed to the point that it had become ratty. The jacket was in its prime and it knew it.

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.

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 were little things that she simply could not stand. The sound of someone tapping their nails on

the table. A person chewing with their mouth open. Another human imposing themselves into her

space. She couldn't stand any of these things, but none of them compared to the number one thing

she couldn't stand which topped all of them combined.