every breathe left a cloud of vapor that seemed to freeze in front of your eyes.
leftsumo
If you could make a visit to the petrifying basement of the place where I work, I know that you would understand. Every time I am asked to haul something down to the basement, I pretend to be brave and march down the stairs to find myself in the crepuscular, and cobweb filled dungeon. The generator roars as I whimper a greeting. The thick silence is almost unbearable as I hold my breath and make the journey to the end of the seemingly never-ending chamber. My eyes slowly adjust to the dim light while my brain tells me to beware of all objects large enough to conceal a person. I must remind myself to breathe. As I near the end, the light flickers. I run.
generate her feelings, impossible
no energy comes from a void source
black holes where lungs should be
nitrous where oxgen should be
oxygen, oxygeneration, providing
epoxy for inner insulation
God is the generator of life. Without Him…what am I? I can’t breathe without Him so why do I make plans without consulting Him? I need wisdom. I need patience. Lord, please, hear my cries! Don’t forget me. You haven’t yet, Lord. I feel like a wisp of nothing today but I know, with YOU, I’m something.
Randi
“did you like the present?”
I don’t know how to answer. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t put thought into the present, I could see his clumsy but genuine efforts at first glance. It was just that it didn’t invoke any emotions within me. I felt nothing.
I type our names into the virtual Love Generator. I deliberately type in our names. A part of me wanted to exit out of the page out of fear of a low percentage. But my heart told me to stay. I re-read the outcome over and over until it was burned into the edges of my brain. 9%. 9%. 9%. My throat burned and as I started typing in a new url, the page finishes loading. 98%. 98%
I wish I could make a generator that was a “no fear, no pain” generator. I can’t, but I wish I could. I want to take all of the pain that he’s feeling from his body, I want to take the fear and anxiety from all of those who love him. But that’s the thing; we all love him, and we’re all going to worry regardless. Even if there’s nothing to worry about. Still, I wish I could take his pain away…
it’s the only thing that can keep the lights on, on these cold cold wintery nights in this cabin, the fire is hot and the lights are on. thank the lord. if these cabin walls could talk, i would shut them up. good night.
A generator is a good thing to have when the electricity is broken. You can fire up this useful device and be warm in the winter. It would also come in handy in the event of a war or calamity.
Vicky McDowell
That should have been the first place I looked. Instead, it took me days to even think about checking there. When I finally did, it was too late. There are not a lot of second chances in life. There wasn’t one this time. Maybe someday I’ll forgive myself – not today.
Cailin
I dont know much about generators except that they are vital to the people I know who live off the grid. There have been years here in NorCal where the rains and wind have knocked the power off for days on end. On those occasions I have wondered about the advisability of getting a small home generator. But when the power comes back on, I forget about it.
J O'Neill
Ideas. I wish my brain was a generator of some profound ones right now. Now I’m reminded of Y2K and how everyone was buying one of these to be prepared.
Heather
The hum of the diesel engine kept us awake most of the night. Worried that it might stop and the heat would go with it. Then we’d be left with the slow creep of the cold January air as it seeped in to steal our breath.
You have to start somewhere, and a generator does that for you. It gives the spark to the mind or perhaps your car engine. It makes things go. It revs up and let’s you explore further than ever.
mel
The generator hummed in the background. It was still cold, despite the energy flowing through the air and the fire crackling merrily at the center of the room. Outside, the sun gleamed through the fog, its rays scattered and refracted at random. It was still cold in this room. We crouched, huddled beneath blankets and quilts, as close to the fire as we dared, looking everywhere but at the stranger. He turned and smiled at them. “Thank you.” He whispered, and disappeared.
the power we need
gasoline and brokken dreams
light when you need it most
guess what were still playing scrabble
whats that
Q smiff
The teacher used a random number generator to assign the children to their new seats. When some children had complaints, the teacher said “Blame it on random numbers..”
Chuck Baker
I used my sonic generator to power up the space ship just in time. As I pushed the flashing red light all I hear is a dull thud thud thud. a chill run down my spine and as i reach down to prime the sonic generator once more i look over the bow of the ship and see the angry hoard charging over the ridge. They see me and shrieks break out I hit the red fire button and the generator breaks into a roar my heart lifts as i run up the ramp and find the captains seat. All systems go I prepare to take off.
Sam
a word generator: a machine that generates words. no, not a machine, but the human brain! in a world where technology is beginning to take place of old-fashioned simplicity, many people forget that the brain is essentially the most powerful and technologically advanced tool we have known to mankind!
its what i need when it’s getting late at night and i’m running out of steam. need something to give me that push to keep going, but just until bedtime. then i can turn it off until tomorrow.
debi
I cannot think of anything. I quickly click through, again and again. But all the thoughts that are generated are dead-ends, failures that lead to nothing. I let my head fall in my hands. Why is the generator failing me?
the generator stood on the island, high over everything else. Its base was shrouded in dry moss, hidden amongst the little bushes. It was red, and rusted. Shells stood on the shores of the tiny scrap of land. Cables ran through the sea, carrying a surprising amount of power to the nearby cabin.
We had a deafening generator in our driveway this summer. Hurricane Irene smashed through Connecticut and left no one with electricity. For eleven days, the gas roared from the generator, loud enough to hear from the top floor of the house.
The first thing that registered was the cold–aching, biting, moaning in snowy breaths through the unhinged door. Uncomprehendingly, she watched the careless curls of miniscule white flakes cling on top of the drifts forming on the hearth, on the floor, on her mother’s frozen eyelashes…
How long had it been without heat? One day? Two?
She dragged her eyes upward, watching her exhales form shimmering clouds in the weak winter sunlight. When did the generator finally stop working? Her thoughts were slow, sluggish, muddling to happy, irrelevant memories of bare feet walking over summer-warmed moss and playing under a midnight sun.
She tried to block the strange, watery sunlight from her eyes, but found that her hands were too numb to respond.
Think harder. Try to remember.
Looking at the people around her, she realized it did not really matter any longer.
the mindis the great generator, the furnace of ideas, of bold images. memories submerged not available suddenly surface in the most peculiar moments. generator, generations, genisi all must come from some word which meant birth. sites like this one are the midwives of such births.
proust, malcolm
Making and creating.
Electricity and the foundation and movement within us.
Keeps it (life) moving and pushing.
Verbs in our life.
Life in our universe. GENERATE.
thom bone
answer
kristaetc
papa
clos
dirt
cloud
dog
faith
clock urban
desk
top
voice
red
march
day
show
sorry
suede
clark
doll
Florencia
the words generated on the screen, full of prompts yet nothing struck her as useable. she was down and out needed inspiration but it wouldn’t come fast enough. she wanted to write, she was sure of it but even with the generator the words wouldnt come.
I’m not ready to go looking for new names – the last time I used a name generator, I ended up telling a story I had no intention of finishing. The names it gave me were actual words, too: things like Furor (which means chaos, or rage) and Fatigue (which should be apparent). Sometimes, I need to get myself away from these generators and onto actually writing the stories I think I have.
no, you’re right.
it is terrible, and it is my mistake.
yes, i do take full responsibility, and i promise to have this fixed by morning.
no?
no.
i’m sorry sir, i just don’t understand.
my talents are pretty limited, unfortunately, and i do not feel comfortable being contracted for that line of work.
not even for those benefits, no.
i’ll just live with my debt, thank you; have a good day.
it creaked. quiet at first. growing louder with each carefully timed footstep of the black, steel toed boots. her blonde hair shivered in the late afternoon sun that leaked through the window. if only she would notice. turn for just a split second. before the hand of revenge could take her away.
The generator roared to life, and Kyle stepped back, startled. It didn’t seem right; one tiny flame shouldn’t be able to activate this long-abandoned piece of machinery. Hayley screamed. At once, Kyle whirled around, fixing his gaze on the redhead. She screamed again, and Kyle figured it out. He managed to make it to the door with her, just before the machine shattered.
as the years go by, we generate babies. now, this may be a weird way to go about it, but think about it. people have sex and generate new life that becomes our new generation. or do you mean generator that keeps the electricity going when the power goes out…?
Large, humming, and more than just a little bit annoying, the generators throughout the factory worked against his nerves like sandpaper against a wooden structure. “Goddamnit! Why don’t you just STOP?”
Arke leaved his forehead against one of the thrumming contraptions and sighed. It only they would let him have his peace.
A single hand touched the back of his neck, causing the small man to whirl around in fear. Only to see Devon standing there, looking dashing as always in his orange prison-like jumper and wife-beater. “What do you want, Devon?”
“Wanna know why I like these generators, Arke?”
“Why?”
“Because I couldn’t do this if the room was silent,” he grinned, pulling the smaller man into his arms and kissing him.
Arke had to agree… they couldn’t do this if there weren’t generators. Suddenly, his headache was gone, and he felt better. Thank God for generators.
He tripped over the generator lead. He stood to see her looking, trying to suppress a giggle. Of course she was looking! She didn’t look when he stood poised, chiseled, hoping for her to glance his way. She didn’t look when he jumped bravely into the freezing water, proving his manliness. She didn’t even look when he helped the lady across the road (a not so random act of kindness but rather a deliberate attempt to act chivalrous and generous). No, she saw him fall like an uncoordinated fool.
the power was out and the night was cold.
freezing.
every breathe left a cloud of vapor that seemed to freeze in front of your eyes.
If you could make a visit to the petrifying basement of the place where I work, I know that you would understand. Every time I am asked to haul something down to the basement, I pretend to be brave and march down the stairs to find myself in the crepuscular, and cobweb filled dungeon. The generator roars as I whimper a greeting. The thick silence is almost unbearable as I hold my breath and make the journey to the end of the seemingly never-ending chamber. My eyes slowly adjust to the dim light while my brain tells me to beware of all objects large enough to conceal a person. I must remind myself to breathe. As I near the end, the light flickers. I run.
generate her feelings, impossible
no energy comes from a void source
black holes where lungs should be
nitrous where oxgen should be
oxygen, oxygeneration, providing
epoxy for inner insulation
God is the generator of life. Without Him…what am I? I can’t breathe without Him so why do I make plans without consulting Him? I need wisdom. I need patience. Lord, please, hear my cries! Don’t forget me. You haven’t yet, Lord. I feel like a wisp of nothing today but I know, with YOU, I’m something.
“did you like the present?”
I don’t know how to answer. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t put thought into the present, I could see his clumsy but genuine efforts at first glance. It was just that it didn’t invoke any emotions within me. I felt nothing.
I type our names into the virtual Love Generator. I deliberately type in our names. A part of me wanted to exit out of the page out of fear of a low percentage. But my heart told me to stay. I re-read the outcome over and over until it was burned into the edges of my brain. 9%. 9%. 9%. My throat burned and as I started typing in a new url, the page finishes loading. 98%. 98%
Alligator trainer, no brainer.
You traitor…
I wish I could make a generator that was a “no fear, no pain” generator. I can’t, but I wish I could. I want to take all of the pain that he’s feeling from his body, I want to take the fear and anxiety from all of those who love him. But that’s the thing; we all love him, and we’re all going to worry regardless. Even if there’s nothing to worry about. Still, I wish I could take his pain away…
I know nothing about a generator.
it’s the only thing that can keep the lights on, on these cold cold wintery nights in this cabin, the fire is hot and the lights are on. thank the lord. if these cabin walls could talk, i would shut them up. good night.
A generator is a good thing to have when the electricity is broken. You can fire up this useful device and be warm in the winter. It would also come in handy in the event of a war or calamity.
That should have been the first place I looked. Instead, it took me days to even think about checking there. When I finally did, it was too late. There are not a lot of second chances in life. There wasn’t one this time. Maybe someday I’ll forgive myself – not today.
I dont know much about generators except that they are vital to the people I know who live off the grid. There have been years here in NorCal where the rains and wind have knocked the power off for days on end. On those occasions I have wondered about the advisability of getting a small home generator. But when the power comes back on, I forget about it.
Ideas. I wish my brain was a generator of some profound ones right now. Now I’m reminded of Y2K and how everyone was buying one of these to be prepared.
The hum of the diesel engine kept us awake most of the night. Worried that it might stop and the heat would go with it. Then we’d be left with the slow creep of the cold January air as it seeped in to steal our breath.
You have to start somewhere, and a generator does that for you. It gives the spark to the mind or perhaps your car engine. It makes things go. It revs up and let’s you explore further than ever.
The generator hummed in the background. It was still cold, despite the energy flowing through the air and the fire crackling merrily at the center of the room. Outside, the sun gleamed through the fog, its rays scattered and refracted at random. It was still cold in this room. We crouched, huddled beneath blankets and quilts, as close to the fire as we dared, looking everywhere but at the stranger. He turned and smiled at them. “Thank you.” He whispered, and disappeared.
the power we need
gasoline and brokken dreams
light when you need it most
guess what were still playing scrabble
whats that
The teacher used a random number generator to assign the children to their new seats. When some children had complaints, the teacher said “Blame it on random numbers..”
I used my sonic generator to power up the space ship just in time. As I pushed the flashing red light all I hear is a dull thud thud thud. a chill run down my spine and as i reach down to prime the sonic generator once more i look over the bow of the ship and see the angry hoard charging over the ridge. They see me and shrieks break out I hit the red fire button and the generator breaks into a roar my heart lifts as i run up the ramp and find the captains seat. All systems go I prepare to take off.
a word generator: a machine that generates words. no, not a machine, but the human brain! in a world where technology is beginning to take place of old-fashioned simplicity, many people forget that the brain is essentially the most powerful and technologically advanced tool we have known to mankind!
its what i need when it’s getting late at night and i’m running out of steam. need something to give me that push to keep going, but just until bedtime. then i can turn it off until tomorrow.
I cannot think of anything. I quickly click through, again and again. But all the thoughts that are generated are dead-ends, failures that lead to nothing. I let my head fall in my hands. Why is the generator failing me?
Why can’t it just think for me?
the generator stood on the island, high over everything else. Its base was shrouded in dry moss, hidden amongst the little bushes. It was red, and rusted. Shells stood on the shores of the tiny scrap of land. Cables ran through the sea, carrying a surprising amount of power to the nearby cabin.
The generator hummed and whirred, the gears churning inside the gigantic mechanism.
“What is this?!” asked Serena, green eyes huge. Born and raised in Panavene, she had never before seen machines that ran on electricity.
“It’s a generator,” Leo said with some humor in his voice. “It’s how we get power.”
“Not enchanted lamps or torches?” she asked, still unable to make the connection between the machine in front of her and the light all around.
We had a deafening generator in our driveway this summer. Hurricane Irene smashed through Connecticut and left no one with electricity. For eleven days, the gas roared from the generator, loud enough to hear from the top floor of the house.
The first thing that registered was the cold–aching, biting, moaning in snowy breaths through the unhinged door. Uncomprehendingly, she watched the careless curls of miniscule white flakes cling on top of the drifts forming on the hearth, on the floor, on her mother’s frozen eyelashes…
How long had it been without heat? One day? Two?
She dragged her eyes upward, watching her exhales form shimmering clouds in the weak winter sunlight. When did the generator finally stop working? Her thoughts were slow, sluggish, muddling to happy, irrelevant memories of bare feet walking over summer-warmed moss and playing under a midnight sun.
She tried to block the strange, watery sunlight from her eyes, but found that her hands were too numb to respond.
Think harder. Try to remember.
Looking at the people around her, she realized it did not really matter any longer.
the mindis the great generator, the furnace of ideas, of bold images. memories submerged not available suddenly surface in the most peculiar moments. generator, generations, genisi all must come from some word which meant birth. sites like this one are the midwives of such births.
Making and creating.
Electricity and the foundation and movement within us.
Keeps it (life) moving and pushing.
Verbs in our life.
Life in our universe. GENERATE.
answer
papa
clos
dirt
cloud
dog
faith
clock urban
desk
top
voice
red
march
day
show
sorry
suede
clark
doll
the words generated on the screen, full of prompts yet nothing struck her as useable. she was down and out needed inspiration but it wouldn’t come fast enough. she wanted to write, she was sure of it but even with the generator the words wouldnt come.
I’m not ready to go looking for new names – the last time I used a name generator, I ended up telling a story I had no intention of finishing. The names it gave me were actual words, too: things like Furor (which means chaos, or rage) and Fatigue (which should be apparent). Sometimes, I need to get myself away from these generators and onto actually writing the stories I think I have.
no, you’re right.
it is terrible, and it is my mistake.
yes, i do take full responsibility, and i promise to have this fixed by morning.
no?
no.
i’m sorry sir, i just don’t understand.
my talents are pretty limited, unfortunately, and i do not feel comfortable being contracted for that line of work.
not even for those benefits, no.
i’ll just live with my debt, thank you; have a good day.
it creaked. quiet at first. growing louder with each carefully timed footstep of the black, steel toed boots. her blonde hair shivered in the late afternoon sun that leaked through the window. if only she would notice. turn for just a split second. before the hand of revenge could take her away.
The generator roared to life, and Kyle stepped back, startled. It didn’t seem right; one tiny flame shouldn’t be able to activate this long-abandoned piece of machinery. Hayley screamed. At once, Kyle whirled around, fixing his gaze on the redhead. She screamed again, and Kyle figured it out. He managed to make it to the door with her, just before the machine shattered.
as the years go by, we generate babies. now, this may be a weird way to go about it, but think about it. people have sex and generate new life that becomes our new generation. or do you mean generator that keeps the electricity going when the power goes out…?
Large, humming, and more than just a little bit annoying, the generators throughout the factory worked against his nerves like sandpaper against a wooden structure. “Goddamnit! Why don’t you just STOP?”
Arke leaved his forehead against one of the thrumming contraptions and sighed. It only they would let him have his peace.
A single hand touched the back of his neck, causing the small man to whirl around in fear. Only to see Devon standing there, looking dashing as always in his orange prison-like jumper and wife-beater. “What do you want, Devon?”
“Wanna know why I like these generators, Arke?”
“Why?”
“Because I couldn’t do this if the room was silent,” he grinned, pulling the smaller man into his arms and kissing him.
Arke had to agree… they couldn’t do this if there weren’t generators. Suddenly, his headache was gone, and he felt better. Thank God for generators.
“It’s going to blow, get down!”
The supervisor’s bellow had all hands on the floor, scrabbling to bury themselves under the thick, protective work tables.
“Cover your head and breath through your masks!” He called out.
The ground rumbled.
Something shook loose from the ceiling and the first explosion sounded out.
He tripped over the generator lead. He stood to see her looking, trying to suppress a giggle. Of course she was looking! She didn’t look when he stood poised, chiseled, hoping for her to glance his way. She didn’t look when he jumped bravely into the freezing water, proving his manliness. She didn’t even look when he helped the lady across the road (a not so random act of kindness but rather a deliberate attempt to act chivalrous and generous). No, she saw him fall like an uncoordinated fool.