The women

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.

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.

The trees, therefore, must be such old and primitive techniques that they thought nothing of them, deeming them so inconsequential that even savages like us would know of them and not be suspicious. At that, they probably didn't have too much time after they detected us orbiting and intending to land. And if that were true, there could be only one place where their civilization was hidden.

With six children in tow, Catherine raced to the airport departing gate. This wasn't an easy task as the children had other priorities than to get to the gate. She knew that she was tight on time and the frustration came out as she yelled at the kids to keep up. They continued to test her, pretending not to listen and to move in directions that only slowed them down. They had no idea the wrath they were about to receive when Catherine made it to the gate only to be informed that they had all missed the plane.

Lori lived her life through the lens of a camera. She never realized this until this very moment as she scrolled through thousands of images on your computer. She could remember the exact moment each photo was taken. She could remember where she had been, what she was thinking as she tried to get the shot, the smells of the surrounding area, and even the emotions that she felt taking the photo, yet she had trouble remembering what she had for breakfast.

Sarah watched the whirlpool mesmerized. She couldn't take her eyes off the water swirling around and around. She stuck in small twigs and leaves to watch the whirlpool catch them and then suck them down. It bothered her more than a little bit that this could also be used as a metaphor for her life.

Spending time at national parks can be an exciting adventure, but this wasn't the type of excitement she was hoping to experience. As she contemplated the situation she found herself in, she knew she'd gotten herself in a little more than she bargained for. It wasn't often that she found herself in a tree staring down at a pack of wolves that were looking to make her their next meal.

My pincher collar is snapped on. Then comes the electric zapper collar. Finally, my purple at-home collar is taken off and I know I’m going for a walk to the dog park. I’m so excited to see my friends. I hope Spike or Thunder are there already. They're the most fun to chase and tumble with. My human is pretty strict with me. I’m only allowed on the grass and not on the sidewalks. I think she’s afraid I’m going to jump on the other humans. I don’t understand why everyone else gets to jump on the benches and run wild on the sidewalks. They don’t listen to their humans. I know I could ignore mine but if I do she may zap me and it’s just not worth it. She probably wouldn’t let me back at the dog park if I didn’t listen to her. I just love the dog park.

Peter always saw the world in black and white. There were two choices for every situation and you had to choose one of them. It was therefore terribly uncomfortable for him to spend time with Ashley. She saw the world in shades of gray with hundreds of choices to choose from in every situation.

She reached her goal, exhausted. Even more chilling to her was that the euphoria that she thought she'd feel upon reaching it wasn't there. Something wasn't right. Was this the only feeling she'd have for over five years of hard work?

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 desert wind blew the tumbleweed in front of the car. Alex swerved to avoid the tumbleweed, but he turned the wheel a bit too strong and the car left the road and skidded onto the dirt median. He instantly slammed on the brakes and the car stopped in a cloud of dirt. When the dust cloud had settled and he could see around him again, he realized that he'd somehow crossed over into an entirely new dimension.

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.

Out of another, I get a lovely view of the bay and a little private wharf belonging to the estate. There is a beautiful shaded lane that runs down there from the house. I always fancy I see people walking in these numerous paths and arbors, but John has cautioned me not to give way to fancy in the least. He says that with my imaginative power and habit of story-making a nervous weakness like mine is sure to lead to all manner of excited fancies and that I ought to use my will and good sense to check the tendency. So I try.

It really doesn't matter what she thinks as it isn't her problem to solve. That's what he kept trying to convince himself. She was trying to insert her opinion where it wasn't wanted or welcome. He already had a plan and even though that plan didn't correspond with what she wanted him to do or what should be done, it wasn't her decision to make. The question now became whether he would stick to his convictions and go through with his plan knowing she wouldn't approve.

It really shouldn't have mattered to Betty. That's what she kept trying to convince herself even if she knew it mattered to Betty more than practically anything else. Why was she trying to convince herself otherwise? As she stepped forward to knock on Betty's door, she still didn't have a convincing answer to this question that she'd been asking herself for more than two years now.

There wasn't a whole lot he could do at that moment. He played the situation again and again in his head looking at what he might have done differently to make the situation better. No matter how many times he relived the situation in his head, there was never really a good alternative course of action. There simply wasn't a whole lot he could have done in that particular moment.

They had made it to Las Vegas, wide-eyed and with so much hope and energy. They had planned the trip for more than a year and both were so excited they could barely control themselves. They still hadn't realized that Las Vegas promised a place where dreams come true, it was actually the place where dreams came to die.

He read about a hike called the incline in the guidebook. It said it was a strenuous hike and to bring plenty of water. “A beautiful hike to the clouds” described one review. “Not for the faint-hearted,” said another. “Not too bad of a workout”, bragged a third review. I thought I’d hike it when I fly in from Maryland on my day off from the senior citizen's wellness conference. I hiked 2 miles a day around the neighborhood so I could handle a 1.1-mile hike. What a foolish mistake that was for a 70-year-old low-lander.

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.

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.

Should he write it down? That was the question running through his mind. He couldn't believe what had just happened and he knew nobody else would believe him as well. Even if he documented what had happened by writing it down, he still didn't believe anyone would still believe it. So the question remained. Was it be worth it to actually write it down?

It went through such rapid contortions that the little bear was forced to change his hold on it so many times he became confused in the darkness, and could not, for the life of him, tell whether he held the sheep right side up, or upside down. But that point was decided for him a moment later by the animal itself, who, with a sudden twist, jabbed its horns so hard into his lowest ribs that he gave a grunt of anger and disgust.

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.

Stormi is a dog. She is dark grey and has long legs. Her eyes are expressive and are able to let her humans know what she is thinking. Her tongue is long, pink, and wet. Her long legs allow her to sprint after other dogs, people or bunnies. She can be a good dog, but also very bad. Her tail wags when happy or excited and hides between her back legs when she is bad. Stormi is a dog I love.

The bush began to shake. Brad couldn't see what was causing it to shake, but he didn't care. he had a pretty good idea about what was going on and what was happening. He was so confident that he approached the bush carefree and with a smile on his face. That all changed the instant he realized what was actually behind the bush.

There were about twenty people on the dam. Most of them were simply walking and getting exercise. There were a few who were fishing. There was a family who had laid down a blanket and they were having a picnic. It was like this most days and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The problem was that nobody noticed the water leaking through the dam wall.

Rhonda prided herself on always taking the path less traveled. She'd decided to do this at an early age and had continued to do so throughout her entire life. It was a point of pride and she would explain to anyone who would listen that doing so was something that she'd made great efforts to always do. She'd never questioned this decision until her five-year-old niece asked her, "So, is this why your life has been so difficult?" and Rhonda didn't have an answer for her.

She didn't understand how changed worked. When she looked at today compared to yesterday, there was nothing that she could see that was different. Yet, when she looked at today compared to last year, she couldn't see how anything was ever the same.

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Frequently Asked Questions

Can I use these random paragraphs for my project?

Yes! All of the random paragraphs in our generator are free to use for your projects.

Does a computer generate these paragraphs?

No! All of the paragraphs in the generator are written by humans, not computers. When first building this generator we thought about using computers to generate the paragraphs, but they weren't very good and many times didn't make any sense at all. We therefore took the time to create paragraphs specifically for this generator to make it the best that we could.

Can I contribute random paragraphs?

Yes. We're always interested in improving this generator and one of the best ways to do that is to add new and interesting paragraphs to the generator. If you'd like to contribute some random paragraphs, please contact us.

How many words are there in a paragraph?

There are usually about 200 words in a paragraph, but this can vary widely. Most paragraphs focus on a single idea that's expressed with an introductory sentence, then followed by two or more supporting sentences about the idea. A short paragraph may not reach even 50 words while long paragraphs can be over 400 words long, but generally speaking they tend to be approximately 200 words in length.