http://slow.writerscafe.org/missmuerte90 The original writings of author Michelle Anselm en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776021506 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 LIFE is but a dream, violent and obsceneAll that you see is not what it seemsA nightmare? Or mediocre melodramaMaimed memories muffled andMisunderstood.Comprehension, consecration, condemnationLocked doors, closed portals to realityLiving, breathing blasphemy, to no offenseBetwixt feather and fig le.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/775165/ Rachel's world is torn asunder after she hears an ugly truth. But how much can friendship heal? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/658852/ A fun short story about a girl named Audrey and the freakiest detention she'll ever have to sit through. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/285216/ Something a little darker, for a change. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/285210/ Poem made in English class using free association words from an object - mine was what looked like a small red plastic fireman. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/285207/ Don't wait up, babe. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/285205/ In memory of Independence Day. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/285027/ I still miss my first boyfriend. He was a jewel among men, so much more mature and compassionate than so many others of our generation. I sill love him, somewhere in my heart. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/284952/ This is an elaboration on a dream that I had back in October... It was quite magical and I felt like I was watching a movie. The only additions are the distinct dialogue and thoughts. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/284919/ A collection of short and bitter prose paragraphs concerning mainstream society's expectations of beauty, so-called "individuality", and the twisted version of "love" that permeates humanity. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/284808/ I took a wonderful guitar class in 9th grade, but sadly forgot what I had learned when I switched thereafter to a school that didn't teach the class. I still strum my guitar from time to time, but I miss that feeling it gave me - the one expressed here. ( http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/284801/ This was written four days before my Senior year of highschool began, in a haze of agonizing and restless lack of sleep, unable to sleep that night, for some reason... My anticipation for entering my last year (Class of '08!). http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/284780/ Upon finding that they had in fact not gained resistance to the sun, and after a dozen or so vampyres had tested it and turned to ashes, the rest of them inside the club had resigned to their daily rest. Kalvin and Veronica had decided to wait it out until night fell, so that they could get back Dan.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/284589/  Kalvin stepped out of his quite luxurious black Ford Mustang – the benefit of knowing vampyres in the right places. He’d parked it a few blocks away from the club, in front of a small bar. He entered the hot, rather smelly room, and searched for the familiar faces. They were sitt.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/284588/  “Do you have it?” “Yeah, I got it back in the freezer.” “How fresh?” “You’re lucky – Manny stole it two nights ago.” “Sergio, you know I don’t trust Manny’s stuff. Can’t yo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/284585/ Veronica stepped out of her cab, forsaking the warmth of the vehicle for the cold night breeze. She still held the door in her hand, though. The cabbie leaned back around his seat. “You sure you wanna get out here?” He could obviously sense that she was going through some decisi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/284584/    Veronica’s ebony eyes fluttered open to darkness, almost pitch. If not for a dull light sifting through gaps in the wood that covered the nearest window, it would have felt surreal. For a moment, she couldn’t remember where she was. Did she go to sleep on the couc.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/284582/  The two of them headed back towards the residential area, where it might be safer. Veronica, while shaken, was quickly recovering, and somehow found space in her mind to enjoy the walk. Kalvin, on the other hand, was practically neurotic; he looked in all directions every minute or so, and h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/284579/ “You don’t own me!” Veronica slammed the screen door behind her and stomped out onto the sidewalk. Fading orange street lamps lit her way along weedy, fractured concrete. The sky was midnight blue and yellow from the metropolitan “light pollution.” She.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/284574/ Veronica Nelson suddenly finds her monotonous urban city life thrown into turmoil with her discovery of the world of vampires, a reluctant but helpful one named Kalvin, and her inevitable fate that has been set in motion for thousands of years. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/missmuerte90/284571/