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.

There was a leak in the boat. Nobody had yet noticed it, and nobody would for the next couple of
hours. This was a problem since the boat was heading out to sea and while the leak was quite small
at the moment, it would be much larger when it was ultimately discovered. John had planned it
exactly this way.

Indescribable oppression, which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar part of her consciousness,
filled her whole being with a vague anguish. It was like a shadow, like a mist passing across her soul's
summer day. It was strange and unfamiliar; it was a mood. She did not sit there inwardly upbraiding
her husband, lamenting at Fate, which had directed her footsteps to the path which they had taken.
She was just having a good cry all to herself. The mosquitoes made merry over her, biting her firm,
round arms and nipping at her bare insteps.

He heard the loud impact before he ever saw the result. It had been so loud that it had actually
made him jump back in his seat. As soon as he recovered from the surprise, he saw the crack in the
windshield. It seemed to be an analogy of the current condition of his life.

Trees. It was something about the trees. The way they swayed with the wind in unison. The way they
shaded the area around them. The sounds of their leaves in the wind and the creaks from the
branches as they sway, The trees were making a statement that I just couldn't understand.

The choice was red, green, or blue. It didn't seem like an important choice when he was making it,
but it was a choice nonetheless. Had he known the consequences at that time, he would likely have
considered the choice a bit longer. In the end, he didn't and ended up choosing blue.

Green vines attached to the trunk of the tree had wound themselves toward the top of the canopy.
Ants used the vine as their private highway, avoiding all the creases and crags of the bark, to freely
move at top speed from top to bottom or bottom to top depending on their current chore. At least
this was the way it was supposed to be. Something had damaged the vine overnight halfway up the
tree leaving a gap in the once pristine ant highway.

Sometimes that's just the way it has to be. Sure, there were probably other options, but he didn't let
them enter his mind. It was done and that was that. It was just the way it had to be.

Balloons are pretty and come in different colors, different shapes, different sizes, and they can even
adjust sizes as needed. But don't make them too big or they might just pop, and then bye-bye
balloon. It'll be gone and lost for the rest of mankind. They can serve a variety of purposes, from
decorating to water balloon wars. You just have to use your head to think a little bit about what to
do with them.

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.