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. The alarm went off and Jake rose awake. Rising early had become a daily ritual, one that he could not fully explain. From the outside, it was a wonder that he was able to get up so early each morning for someone who had absolutely no plans to be productive during the entire day. Dave wasn't exactly sure how he had ended up in this predicament. He ran through all the events that had lead to this current situation and it still didn't make sense. He wanted to spend some time to try and make sense of it all, but he had higher priorities at the moment. The first was how to get out of his current situation of being naked in a tree with snow falling all around and no way for him to get down. 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 are different types of secrets. She had held onto plenty of them during her life, but this one was different. She found herself holding onto the worst type. It was the type of secret that could gnaw away at your insides if you didn't tell someone about it, but it could end up getting you killed if you did. He looked at the sand. Picking up a handful, he wondered how many grains were in his hand. Hundreds of thousands? "Not enough," the said under his breath. I need more. "It was so great to hear from you today and it was such weird timing," he said. "This is going to sound funny and a little strange, but you were in a dream I had just a couple of days ago. I'd love to get together and tell you about it if you're up for a cup of coffee," he continued, laying the trap he'd been planning for years. Was it enough? That was the question he kept asking himself. Was being satisfied enough? He looked around him at everyone yearning to just be satisfied in their daily life and he had reached that goal. He knew that he was satisfied and he also knew it wasn't going to be enough. 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. 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. Waiting and watching. It was all she had done for the past weeks. When you’re locked in a room with nothing but food and drink, that’s about all you can do anyway. She watched as birds flew past the window bolted shut. She couldn’t reach it if she wanted too, with that hole in the floor. She thought she could escape through it but three stories is a bit far down. Dave found joy in the daily routine of life. He awoke at the same time, ate the same breakfast and drove the same commute. He worked at a job that never seemed to change and he got home at 6 pm sharp every night. It was who he had been for the last ten years and he had no idea that was all about to change. Barbara had been waiting at the table for twenty minutes. it had been twenty long and excruciating minutes. David had promised that he would be on time today. He never was, but he had promised this one time. She had made him repeat the promise multiple times over the last week until she'd believed his promise. Now she was paying the price. Sleeping in his car was never the plan but sometimes things don't work out as planned. This had been his life for the last three months and he was just beginning to get used to it. He didn't actually enjoy it, but he had accepted it and come to terms with it. Or at least he thought he had. All that changed when he put the key into the ignition, turned it and the engine didn't make a sound. Thee river likely had a different official name, but to everyone in town, it was and had always been the green river. So it was with great surprise that on this day the green river was a fluorescent pink. 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. 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. 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? He was an expert but not in a discipline that anyone could fully appreciate. He knew how to hold the cone just right so that the soft server ice-cream fell into it at the precise angle to form a perfect cone each and every time. It had taken years to perfect and he could now do it without even putting any thought behind it. Nobody seemed to fully understand the beauty of this accomplishment except for the new worker who watched in amazement. It's always good to bring a slower friend with you on a hike. If you happen to come across bears, the whole group doesn't have to worry. Only the slowest in the group do. That was the lesson they were about to learn that day. The rain and wind abruptly stopped, but the sky still had the gray swirls of storms in the distance. Dave knew this feeling all too well. The calm before the storm. He only had a limited amount of time before all Hell broke loose, but he stopped to admire the calmness. Maybe it would be different this time, he thought, with the knowledge deep within that it wouldn't. 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. 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. 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. I recollect that my first exploit in squirrel-shooting was in a grove of tall walnut-trees that shades one side of the valley. I had wandered into it at noontime, when all nature is peculiarly quiet, and was startled by the roar of my own gun, as it broke the Sabbath stillness around and was prolonged and reverberated by the angry echoes. 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! 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. It really didn't matter what they did to him. He's already made up his mind. Whatever came his way, he was prepared for the consequences. He knew in his heart that the sacrifice he made was done with love and not hate no matter how others decided to spin it. The wolves stopped in their tracks, sizing up the mother and her cubs. It had been over a week since their last meal and they were getting desperate. The cubs would make a good meal, but there were high risks taking on the mother Grizzly. A decision had to be made and the wrong choice could signal the end of the pack. She looked at her little girl w