Path Of Least Resistance Book Novels & Stories

CHOICES UNKNOWN POV Choice - it's the most powerful tool there is. Everything in life boils down to choices. We exist in a universe of infinite paths and possibilities. Each and every path we choose shuts or opens an infinite number of doors. I lay down certain paths for my children. Some like to call it fate, but the truth is they can choose to ignore that path. I can't make them choose. There are rules against things of that nature that even I must follow. My children are those born with the pull of the moon. Werewolves as they have come to be called.

Don said. "Yes," Ernest said. "It is the most efficient mode. It is the mode I spent forty years in. The decision arrives, I assess it, I determine the correct answer, I act on it. That sequence is so deeply trained that under pressure it reasserts itself as the path of least resistance." "And the path of least resistance," Don said, "happens to be the path that costs me most." "Yes," Ernest said. "In that specific register." They were quiet for a moment. Don looked at the fire. Ernest looked at Don.

It was a map of destruction. Léo had taught her about load paths. The weight of the building traveled down the walls to the ground. If a wall broke, the weight found another path. If no path existed, the building fell. The geometry of the collapse was determined by the path of least resistance. It was like water finding the crack in a dam, he had said. The force always finds the weakest point. She had drawn it in her notebook that day, the arrows showing the weight moving down through the columns, and Léo had said she was a natural engineer. She looked at the television. The rescue workers were clustered on the east side of the rubble. They were trying to lift a beam. They were in the wrong

Elira rested against Caelan, shoulder to chest. "They won't remember every word," she breathed. "But they'll remember how it influenced what they did next." He put an arm around her. "Then it succeeded. Not by being observed—but by being applied." A breeze riffled the pages left open within. --- 10:48 PM – Penthouse, Bedroom The notebook was open once more. Elira wrote laboriously: Clause Thirty – Embedded Pathways Constructed from paths already traveled. Motion as remembrance. Form as habit. Living instruction.

I analyzed and asked myself how many people would actually make it to the kingdom, the bible, the word, the truth, everything we’ve ever known, the right path, the right way yet everyone does it so wrong, no one is happy, even the greatest commandments not everyone understands it. What was the essence of the oh so righteous way of life if you aren’t even living according to what you hear and still don’t practice, we lie, we hate, we steal, we blaspheme, we backbite, we do everything we nod our heads to, shed tears to, scream “yes pastor” to, where was the loophole in Christianity. I walked ahead of my parents on the way home, I didn’t want any repeat of the sermon minutes after hearing it, I