http://slow.writerscafe.org/angelamulley The original writings of author Juliet Forshaw en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776038754 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Desire nailed into the thick air,lustrous eyes, delicately rounded.Watching her straw get distorted in the glass,Just as if it would.The hungry heart is a ravenous beast,Calling to be fed and yet, not misunderstood.  Music painted onto silence,Another pair of eyes she see's,Aw.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/464104/ I drank from the cup, which was on the shelf, that had been built by Ted, who Fred brought round.I glanced at the chair which stood on the floor, that had been mopped by Lilly whom Ted hired, after Fred brought him round.I watered the plant which sat at my feet, that had been brought by Jane.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/464102/ It was in the early hours of a cold January morning, that Detective Inspector Stewart attempted to retrace the final steps of Jimmy McDuff, a thirty year old man who had been murdered at his home in Milbride, on the west coast of Scotland.He walked up the path, the cold wind ground against his ski.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/464098/ Transient wave like forms simultaneouslysecrete; whirled, swirled, entangled and intended-yet not by the self. Elementary, theblink of an eye; to imply, the sudden jerkof a limb or two. Thought divided intosections of non- existance, between distanceof time, whose object we can grasp now.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/464015/ Over the past decade, there has been an increase in the number of relationships that fail. It's also a well known fact that fewer people are getting married. Pretty soon, in about twenty years time, there will be a whole generation of us, who go about on our own because we were 'too busy' .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/464014/  There are many arguments that need to be taken into account when we think about time, and the issues that relate to it. The major question of whether time really exists has baffled philosophers around the world for centuries. There is little doubt however, that whether or not we can come.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/464011/ Dawn cast out an early glance, Upon night, huge and bold. Then at last, upon by chance, Strew hues, silver and gold.Out; long wings struck, far and wide,Light for night,  time is grown.                Above.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/464005/ Light beckons overexpeditious huesof green and blue. Thegleam jumps to catch thenext by the time itarrives. Strong andtranslucent. The sound ofa swish confirms adestination nowfulfilled, an unchaineddescendant ofyesterday, last year,a million y.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/464003/ A ten page part chapter of a sci-fi novel. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/234765/ A sci-fi story http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/234732/ A mixture of soft/hard sci-fi and my aim for this book is to take the reader on a journey through space at a molecular level. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/228143/ Drip, drop, drip and pitter, patter, clanging of raindrops on a tin can moving around outside, oscillating between slow, then fast in a somewhat powerful, rhapsodic manner.Kathrine Johnson, a fiftyfive year old woman from Shalesby, Yorkshire, retired production worker and mother of f.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/215935/ Darkness falls as I take one final glance at your unblemished face. Wiping a tear from your fading emerald eyes, as you bestow your last ailing breath upon my neck. I scorn at the jagged wounds strewn across your chest.The sweet smell of your sweat turns the bile in my stomac.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/215934/ A whispering moon shimmers to the ambience of fading darkness, tampering indescively with subdued moments of serenity. Tiring breezes falter through the trees. Blades of grass, still on the forrest floor, surrounded by a shallow mist as morning awoke.Tentative passions shiver like the col.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/215931/ Today is unlike tomorrow,tomorrow unlike yesterday.Change is the one thing which remains constant in our unstable lives.It was a wet, dull morning. I sat about reading my newspaper, listening to the the blackbirds as they sang their early morning blues. The rain fell slovenly i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/215930/ Lips moving without words, soft, unspoken. Tasting the lemonade from her cup and telling. She crossed her legs and sat back into the chair, letting her arms flop over at either side of the armrest, as though to portray an image of being somehow cool. I mean, the thing that bothered me the most was.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/215928/ The tiring sun rested halfway above the rippling river as though it were being dissolved by a clear, unimpeded blue sky.  The tops of the worn out scrap wood fence hosted a striking, yet fading orange light, concealing deep cracks overcome by the weariness of old age.  The river began .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/215927/ Life inside a fish bowl. I stood under the porch, ran my fingers through my hair like a comb and focused contently into the distance.  Heat rays emanated from a partly covered yellow dot in the sky, which reflected from the hard, wet ground and warmed my feet.The rai.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/215924/ Before I begin, systematically reliving each detail,My thoughts I fear have become somewhat strained,As I clasp at each moment, remembering each second we spent gasping for precious air.We never thought it would be like this though and,Now that the boundaries of our communication have ceas.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/215922/ When one has forgotten how to love, He has lost his rapture in the early morning sun,As it rises tenderly in the east.When one has forgotten how to love, He is no longer charmed by the sweet rhythm of the blackbird, As she sings gaily from her branch, He covers his ears as she begin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/215921/ Desire nailed into the thick air,lustrous eyes, delicately rounded,Watching her straw get distorted in the glass,Just as if it would.The hungry heart is a ravenous beast,Calling to be fed and yet, not misunderstood.  Music painted onto silence,Another pair of eyes she see's,Awai.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/213338/ Will we ever cease trying to find,The meaning of eternity,All for a brief shallow moment,Take a bite from the corner of the page,Reality is a dreamer,Of love, life and nature,The passion which keeps it alive.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/211192/ And he called himself... "Andrew"And I said to him, "Andrew""Can you see that tree?""Give me your hand" he cried,A black diamond upon a throne,Glistening in the rain,And he called himself... "Andrew"And I said to him, "Andrew"Can you see th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/211190/ The scent of rain swept in through an open window of a dank and dingy, one bedroomed flat.  The walls had been painted in white industrial strength corporation paint, but had gradually become a dirty yellow as tar and condensation mixed, then ran down the walls in a dense liquid. His h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angelamulley/183082/