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blah

hi

電子計算機.jpg, 42.90 kB

電子計算機

test 2

test

Finding the red rose in the mailbox was a pleasant surprise for Sarah. She didn't have a boyfriend or know of anyone who was interested in her as anything more than a friend. There wasn't even a note attached to it. Although it was a complete mystery, it still made her heart jump and race a little more than usual. She wished that she could simply accept the gesture and be content knowing someone had given it to her, but that wasn't the way Sarah did things. Now it was time to do a little detective work and try to figure who had actually left the red rose. It was the best compliment that he'd ever received although the person who gave it likely never knew. It had been an off-hand observation on his ability to hold a conversation and actually add pertinent information to it on practically any topic. Although he hadn't consciously strived to be able to do so, he'd started to voraciously read the news when he couldn't keep up on topics his friends discussed because their conversations went above his head. The fact that someone had noticed enough to compliment him that he could talk intelligently about many topics meant that he had succeeded in his quest to be better informed. The wave crashed and hit the sandcastle head-on. The sandcastle began to melt under the waves force and as the wave receded, half the sandcastle was gone. The next wave hit, not quite as strong, but still managed to cover the remains of the sandcastle and take more of it away. The third wave, a big one, crashed over the sandcastle completely covering and engulfing it. When it receded, there was no trace the sandcastle ever existed and hours of hard work disappeared forever. 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. Nobody really understood Kevin. It wasn't that he was super strange or difficult. It was more that there wasn't enough there that anyone wanted to take the time to understand him. This was a shame as Kevin had many of the answers to the important questions most people who knew him had. It was even more of a shame that they'd refuse to listen even if Kevin offered to give them the answers. So, Kevin remained silent, misunderstood, and kept those important answers to life to himself. 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. It was the first day of the rest of her life. This wasn't the day she was actually born, but she knew that nothing would be the same from this day forward. Although this was a bit scary to her, it was also extremely freeing. Her past was no longer a burden or something that she needed to be concerned about and defend. She threw off the covers keeping her warm in bed, placed her feet over the side of the bed, slipped on her slipper, and took the first step of the first day of her new life. She sat deep in thought. The next word that came out o her mouth would likely be the most important word of her life. It had to be exact with no possibility of being misinterpreted. She was ready. She looked deeply into his eyes and said, "Octopus." The clowns had taken over. And yes, they were literally clowns. Over 100 had appeared out of a small VW bug that had been driven up to the bank. Now they were all inside and had taken it over. 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. The day had begun on a bright note. The sun finally peeked through the rain for the first time in a week, and the birds were singing in its warmth. There was no way to anticipate what was about to happen. It was a worst-case scenario and there was no way out of it. She sat in the darkened room waiting. It was now a standoff. He had the power to put her in the room, but not the power to make her repent. It wasn't fair and no matter how long she had to endure the darkness, she wouldn't change her attitude. At three years old, Sandy's stubborn personality had already bloomed into full view. He stepped away from the mic. This was the best take he had done so far, but something seemed missing. Then it struck him all at once. Visuals ran in front of his eyes and music rang in his ears. His eager fingers went to work in an attempt to capture his thoughts hoping the results would produce something that was at least half their glory. 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. There was a time when he would have embraced the change that was coming. In his youth, he sought adventure and the unknown, but that had been years ago. He wished he could go back and learn to find the excitement that came with change but it was useless. That curiosity had long left him to where he had come to loathe anything that put him out of his comfort zone. To the two friends, the treehouse was much more than a treehouse. It was a sanctuary away from the other kids where they could be themselves without being teased or bullied. It was their secret fortress hidden high in the branches of a huge oak that only they knew existed. At least that is what they thought. They were more than a little annoyed when their two younger sisters decided to turn the treehouse into a princess castle by painting the inside pink and putting glitter everywhere. Pink ponies and purple giraffes roamed the field. Cotton candy grew from the ground as a chocolate river meandered off to the side. What looked like stones in the pasture were actually rock candy. Everything in her dream seemed to be perfect except for the fact that she had no mouth. 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. Many people say that life isn't like a bed of roses. I beg to differ. I think that life is quite like a bed of roses. Just like life, a bed of roses looks pretty on the outside, but when you're in it, you find that it is nothing but thorns and pain. I myself have been pricked quite badly. 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. 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.

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delete

test