<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<rss version="2.0">
	<channel>
		<title>Lyndsay Gaynor | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/lyndsaygaynor</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Lyndsay Gaynor</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
		<lastBuildDate>1776205554</lastBuildDate>
		<generator>WritersCafe.org RSS Generator</generator>
		<ttl>15</ttl>
		<item>
			<title>[untitled]</title>
			<description>Trapped in lonelinessHaving eternal happinesssuffocating on thoughtsof black nothingness&amp;nbsp;in a jarsealed by dislike and discomfort&amp;nbsp;Hating oneselfHurting without cuttingPainHelpless torture&amp;nbsp;and trapped again</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lyndsaygaynor/302502/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Guilt</title>
			<description>My guilt glows redwith markings of blackAnd though it tortures,it satisfies me&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;My guilt is hot&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;it burns&amp;nbsp;I close..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lyndsaygaynor/302501/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Beskermde Dae</title>
			<description>An Afrikaans story.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lyndsaygaynor/302499/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Rusting desire</title>
			<description>When thoughtless icesurrounds my heart and mind,Lying sleepless, cold,weeping for love of any kind.Memories rip me,making me cry,over feelings for youI must deny.Why do I let youkill and torture me so,and chain my soul to your body,I will never know.Choking on blood,from my hearts se..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lyndsaygaynor/297463/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>The meaning of freedom</title>
			<description>It&amp;rsquo;s been about an hour now, probably less. I don&amp;rsquo;t know. I&amp;rsquo;m too numb to even care. The enormous hole oozing blood from my chest is no longer sending teeth-grinding pain through my entire body. It is now simply a tap pouring my life out for all to see. All that&amp;rsquo;s in my mind ..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lyndsaygaynor/297062/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Life's cruel journey</title>
			<description>Life&amp;rsquo;s a journey. It isn&amp;rsquo;t always pleasant or fun, but it takes you places that you would never have even dreamt of going. It teaches you things in ways that often appear unfair. When you fall, you have no choice but to stand up, dust yourself off and keep going.My journey started many..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lyndsaygaynor/297061/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Convicted innocence</title>
			<description>It has been five years since my dear Trevor and darling daughter were brutally murdered. Five years and twenty-seven days, to be exact. I now sit here twelve hours away from being executed for a crime that I did not commit, a crime that I wouldn&amp;rsquo;t have ever even dreamt of committing.It was a..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lyndsaygaynor/297059/</link>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>