<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<rss version="2.0">
	<channel>
		<title>Offbeat Z | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/JasmineZ</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Offbeat Z</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
		<lastBuildDate>1776044979</lastBuildDate>
		<generator>WritersCafe.org RSS Generator</generator>
		<ttl>15</ttl>
		<item>
			<title>Bliss?</title>
			<description>Eight years ago, waking up, I was recovering from a traumatic experience the day before. The establishment that was supposed to do the final pressing of my dress, had decided that it was to delicate work to do at their facility (though they had promised me that they could handle it) and then told me..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JasmineZ/228030/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Bernie Part 2</title>
			<description>Low clouds rolling overhead, I sat with incense burning to the left of me, a box with tarot cards to my right and the Ouija board directly in front of me on the freshly turned soil. It was colder than usual in the cemetery. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse. There had been movement ..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JasmineZ/221820/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Bernie</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;On Saturday night, I was just doing my regular routine of Bedazzling all my clothing while watching Telemundo. Out of nowhere, there was a knock at the door. Now it was about 12:30AM, so I'm not expecting anyone and the weekly midnight potluck was not scheduled until Tuesday. I went to the d..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JasmineZ/221819/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Half of What I Could Be</title>
			<description>Looking in the mirror, it is you I see. Many of my personality traits are inherited from both sides. Even what others perceive as my positive points, I do not, if they are directly related to you. I fight with every once of my being not to become, even remotely, a product from a pitiful being such a..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JasmineZ/221803/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Never Forgotten</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;When a love one passes, way too often, family and friends will automatically remember this person as a perfect being that could do no&amp;nbsp;wrong. I prefer to remember those as the way they really were and not to turn my memories into something fictional.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I'm writing this, ..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JasmineZ/221796/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Me Time</title>
			<description>Exhausted, from a tedious day, I disrobed and stepped into the ample garden style bath tub. The water, (being as heated as I could tolerate) quieting the concerns of the day, brought me to more stimulating thoughts. Thoughts of you. How I wanted your form&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;adjoined with mine, but you were ..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JasmineZ/221782/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Something about someone</title>
			<description>Gently, she bites his lower lip, and then pulls her kiss away, teasing. He will have to prove to her that he wants this. The man leans his head upward, pulls her to him and their lips meet once again.&amp;nbsp;She undresses him. First his shirt. Running her hands across his&amp;nbsp;chest, she begins to..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JasmineZ/221780/</link>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>