Most Random Things To Say Novels & Stories

I can't do that. "Kabhi kabhi khamoshi hi bohot kuch keh jati hai. (Sometimes, silence speaks more than words.) I said. He looked at me with a startled face. Shit! Ew! I can't believe I said such a tacky line. He must be feeling so awkward. Oh God! Help! He chuckled softly. Yep! his making fun of me of course! 'Rahina! you are hopeless!' "I didn't knew you're such a romantic. Ek aur baat pata chal gayi aap k baare mei.

About 90% of the time no one is paying attention as I am saying this stuff, but that 10% of the time, it's just magic and someone will just laugh out loud. So I continue: "I do blah programming in whatever..." and say some stuff like that and then I usually say something like, "As for my personal information, I'm a Libra, and my turn-offs are mean people and smoking and my turn-ons are long walks on the beach, the laughter of children, and the warm smell of colitis rising up through the air" or whatever neural firings happen to be activated at that particular nanosecond. What is interesting is that everyone after me has to try to outdo me. It breaks the ice, so mission accomplished as far as

“Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to sing right now.” He chuckled deepening his gaze which gave me butterflies, “Okay, so what else would you like to do at this hour?” “I think we should talk,” I said, excitedly. “About?” He looked at me like I’d grown an extra head. That one word from him made my cautious excitement dissipate in one efficient sweep. “There doesn’t always have to be an ‘about’ when we chat. People talk about random things, occasionally.” “Which people?” He raised one questioning eyebrow as though he couldn’t imagine a more ridiculous notion.

“How about we watch a movie?” “Like a movie marathon?” “Maybe. Or, I dunno. A movie night, I guess. I don’t know. Do you have anything in mind?” “I have nothing in particular in mind. We can do whatever you want.” “I kinda want to take you somewhere tomorrow. Like to a restaurant. Or a park. I don’t really care which one, as long as we do it together.” “Sounds good to me.” Max gave a small chuckle. “Of course. It’s probably going to be something boring, but I don’t care. You pick the location anyway. We can just hang out and do random stuff together. It’ll be fun.”

Alright, here’s 600 words of completely random, chaotic-yet-readable stuff: --- Have you ever thought about how bizarre it is that bananas are technically berries, but strawberries aren’t? Whoever came up with fruit classification was either a genius or someone with too much time on their hands. Imagine sitting in a botanical conference: “Yes, folks, tomatoes are fruits, cucumbers are fruits, but that thing called a strawberry? Nope, not a berry. Carry on.” It feels like nature is playing an inside joke and we’re just pretending to get it.

Things are gonna be fun. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She said and got lost in her thoughts. Kabir snapped in his fingers in front of her as she came back to the world, “So as I was saying, Why do we not just say some random things instead of passing time over like its an interview where you have to tell me about your life and I have to share about mine?” She asked.

“My hands aren’t shaking if that’s what you’re asking.” I think for a while, then an idea clicks. “You need a distraction, just to clear your head." “Like what?” “Talking,” I say. “We can talk about anything. Long, pointless conversations always knock you out eventually.” Dre laughs, sceptical. “You really think that’ll work?” “Trust me. You’ll be out in minutes.” “Okay,” she agrees, yawning. “What do we talk about?” “Anything you want.” She looks like she’s thinking too hard, so I jump in before she spirals.

"I want to remember the small things." "The small things," Alexander said. "The things that don't make it into the annual report. Coffee in the morning. The dog at the foot of the bed. The way you look when you're reading. The way you laugh when something is actually funny. The way you said 'the south-facing bed' like it was a perfectly normal thing to call your husband." Alexander was quiet for a moment. "I didn't say that," he said. "You said I was like the south-facing bed."

Maybe my mouth can say what my tangled words can’t. So I do the simplest, stupidest thing.