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		<title>Shutter Speed | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/shutterspeed</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Shutter Speed</description>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>We Are Highway Nights, Part IV</title>
			<description>A fisherman's reelis the strand to reelthe only one for me.It's shocking wherewe find ourselves sometimes.Not in the mirror but standingface-first in violent sunset glass.Like little kids, noses against the wall.A corner of Styx is where we find ourselves sometimes.And how we ost..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/351559/</link>
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			<title>We Are Highway Nights, Part III</title>
			<description>Heliocentricity, Phlegyas told us,is the answer. It is the reasonwe all end up crossing riversand thus is the answer. He lived beneath the bridge over River Styx.He told us, he saidthat it was the safest place he could find.We were not fooled.&amp;nbsp;Styx was a mirror, a giant crysta..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/351558/</link>
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			<title>We Are Highway Nights, Part II</title>
			<description>We left the Highway of Gravel behind, heading due west to escapePhaeton&amp;rsquo;s destruction as long as we could.We were the gravitational center of this two-dimensional night.My Desperado,I left him on the ledge of the Highway. Told him I&amp;rsquo;d be back.But she slid her hand into mine..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/351557/</link>
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			<title>We Are Aries We Are Virgo</title>
			<description>Build on each other, He says? He says the Crux draws us togetherand the Hunter tears us apart,but He leaves us at that.We are Aries and Virgo but He leaves us at that.But Temini, Gaurus, we are all constellations.racing apart from one another at twenty thousand miles per hour,yet s..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/351556/</link>
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			<title>We Are Highway Nights, Part I</title>
			<description>Highway nights furnish themselvesaccordinglywith the rusty silver crosses danglingfrom hitchhikers&amp;rsquo; necks.They glimmer against the emerald blue backdropof a starlit sunset, a blade of light slicing through night air to reflecta planetarium dome,splashing itself across the night..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/351554/</link>
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			<title>A Second Patiently</title>
			<description>A patient secondis a dream, with only the speed of a shutterfast enough to linger a second into patience.For the laments of the single pixelwho knows he's too smallfor those impatient secondscan illuminate proudly his ownfraction of a millimeter,for that's all he has to call home.A..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/299640/</link>
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			<title>Lack of a View</title>
			<description>Life gluesour feet to the ground,yet pushes us to grow faster faster(with every eraser mark)until our heads are in the cloudsand we can't see our feet anymore,not that we ever bother to glancedown anyway.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/296274/</link>
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			<title>The Things We Shall Assume</title>
			<description>Blink and the evidence is gone.Not every moment is Kodak-worthy,not every memory one for us to anchor ourselves on.But the determined wave of time(all clandestinely silky and gossamer until you jump in),barreling on to somewhere meaningful we shall assume,will pass by an anchor just as q..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/294850/</link>
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			<title>A Day in a Nutshell</title>
			<description>lost choosing,crammed betweenboth sparkling waterand gray paperto wait and seethe night perform</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/290595/</link>
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			<title>Awaiting Southampton Avenue</title>
			<description>&amp;quot;Nothing ever turns out how you expect it to, does it?&amp;quot;&amp;quot;Huh?&amp;quot; Tony gave a small jerk. His nightshift was dragging on, and his mind had been lost deep inside the occurances of the day. The man he was driving in his archaic taxi hadn't spoken a word the whole ride except for a ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/288853/</link>
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			<title>A Little Before 3 in the A.M.</title>
			<description>It was probably about 3 in the A.M., but he couldn't remember and didn't particularly care anyway. He reluctantly and quickly shelved his thoughts for the moment, swept a mindless hand hastily through most likely disheveled hair, bit his quivering lip and leaned over to dry-heave toward the grass. H..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/287367/</link>
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			<title>What Hindsight Exposes</title>
			<description>Liberty?from nothing but a ratnesting into memories,the glossy photograph of your brainholding on just a little too long.They're just nightmares now,though,compacted and groundinto the wrong answerto the ultimate question.The future is way too uncertainto be an excuse.Point a..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/283867/</link>
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			<title>A Million Almosts</title>
			<description>With a smile a little shorterthan the length of a teardropand a wavelength a little shorterthan a frown,just an ebbing waveforlorn and unimportantto God and everybody exceptthe relentless tauntsthe other waves with almostsfor them to drag you underto your haunted house of retrosp..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/282374/</link>
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			<title>To Be Perfect</title>
			<description>Beautifulis just a wordand so isLoveandPerfectionbut with six billion voicesthe words become longerget stuck in your throatwith six billion opinionsthe world spins fasteror slowerbut only listens to the peoplecomplicate themand suddenlythe words are out of reach it seem..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/278504/</link>
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			<title>All the Colors</title>
			<description>And by the timeyou discover thatthe writing actually means something,the pen is out of ink andthe pages and pages are full ofuseless scribbleseach one to satisfy itsthree minutes' worthbut not give a damn for thefuture but nowit's all the past anywayswhen your noontime sorrows..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/278452/</link>
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			<title>Puddle of Nonsense</title>
			<description>Just&amp;nbsp;a little weakeror a little angrier andyour Coca-Cola pen is a block of icewhere ideas will melt from the page and ontoyour desk andJust one goddamn poemwill you just grant me onegoddamn poem becauseif you leave it in God's hands expectingthe world from Him anytime soon yo..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/277416/</link>
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			<title>Molehill</title>
			<description>A comment or twoand again a million minutes butit's just a sweltering summer in Alabamawhere people will go on livingassuming that's enoughand may or may nothave a good excuse for God at the Pearly Gatesso where is hebut trying too hard maybeto pass the time slick and sly so that..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/277274/</link>
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			<title>Million</title>
			<description>A million thoughts left unexpressed&amp;nbsp;Hearing yourself from a million times from a million days&amp;nbsp;Voices pushing and pulling and clogging and churning you into their wants their wishes and&amp;nbsp;The Balance?&amp;nbsp;In you in ideas into motion into events into a life or in&amp;nbsp;..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shutterspeed/277206/</link>
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