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		<title>david | WritersCafe.org</title>
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		<description>The original writings of author david</description>
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			<title>Messages from the Future 02</title>
			<description>Friday, 01 January 2608The following is a transcript of the weekly broadcast given by our esteemed dictator for life, Wurtzel Hemingway. May he live forever.Hello cretins. This is your leader speaking. By now we are accustomed to hearing the moral objections of our wisest citizens. As was ex..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/psiph/233535/</link>
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			<title>Messages from the Future 01</title>
			<description>Friday, 25 December 2607The following is a transcript of the weekly broadcast given by our esteemed dictator for life, Wurtzel Hemingway. May he live forever.Hello simpletons. This is your leader speaking. I have returned unscathed from the newly established Mid-Atlantic sea colonies. I can ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/psiph/233534/</link>
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			<title>Messages from the Future</title>
			<description></description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/psiph/233532/</link>
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			<title>A blackbird</title>
			<description>A blackbird on my shoulder, I walked through the forest. And though the sun was shining somewhere up above, the forest was dark and silent.The blackbird asked me, &amp;ldquo;Who are you, wanderer?&amp;rdquo;I answered him, &amp;ldquo;I am a son, I am a brother, I am a teacher, I am a student, and I am a..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/psiph/233023/</link>
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			<title>Peter</title>
			<description>He dragged his finger along the edge of the painted butterfly wings, coating his fingertip with grainy pollen. The fragile wing cracked under the pressure and a small flake of black unhinged itself and flipped through the still air as it fluttered to the ground. Peter tried to decide if his cons..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/psiph/233022/</link>
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			<title>I will look for you. I will. I will. I will.</title>
			<description>After walking for hours I came upon an old man crouching in the dirt. He heard me drawing near but he did not turn around.I spoke to him, but he did not care to respond. I asked him a question, but he did not answer me. So I decided to wait. A dry wind swept the ground and whispered at my back...</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/psiph/233021/</link>
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