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.

What if dogs were racist? Would they care about fur color….. “son, only play with other tan dogs”? Or maybe it would depend on breed, “honey, only play with other German Shepards, never poodles”. Better yet it could depend on occupation. “I’m a sled dog while you’re only a running companion, leave me alone”. Maybe the neighborhood they live in could be the way they choose which dogs to associate with and which to shun?

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. The irony of the situation hadn’t escaped her. She had taken years to sculpt the perfect persona with the perfect look that she shared on Instagram.

The boy walked down the street in a carefree way, playing without notice of what was about him. He didn’t hear the sound of the car as his ball careened into the road. He took a step toward it, and in doing so sealed his fate.

The wave roared towards them with speed and violence they had not anticipated. They both turned to run but by that time it was too late. The wave crashed into their legs sweeping both of them off of their feet. They now found themselves in a washing machine of saltwater, getting tumbled and not know what was up or down. Both were scared, not knowing how this was going to end, but it was by far the best time of the trip thus far.

Sometimes it’s simply better to ignore the haters. That’s the lesson that Tom’s dad had been trying to teach him, but Tom still couldn’t let it go. He latched onto them and their hate and couldn’t let it go, but he also realized that this wasn’t healthy. That’s when he came up with his devious plan.

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 boy walked down the street in a carefree way, playing without notice of what was about him. He didn’t hear the sound of the car as his ball careened into the road. He took a step toward it, and in doing so sealed his fate. “What is the best way to get what you want?” she asked. He looked down at the ground knowing that she wouldn’t like his answer.

Her breath exited her mouth in big puffs as if she were smoking a cigarette. The morning dew had made her clothes damp and she shivered from the chill in the air. There was only one thing that could get her up and out this early in the morning. She didn’t like the food. She never did. She made the usual complaints and started the tantrum he knew was coming. But this time was different.

The amber droplet hung from the branch, reaching fullness and ready to drop. It waited. While many of the other droplets were satisfied to form as big as they could and release, this droplet had other plans. It wanted to be part of history. It wanted to be remembered long after all the other droplets had dissolved into history. So it waited for the perfect specimen to fly by to trap and capture that it hoped would eventually be discovered hundreds of years in the future.