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		<title>william | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/wgaylord</link>
		<description>The original writings of author william</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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			<title>La Cuisine Est La Douleur</title>
			<description>Kitchen work is brutal.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wgaylord/1303233/</link>
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			<title>Mu&amp;ntilde;eca</title>
			<description>A quick one about neighbors.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wgaylord/1154314/</link>
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			<title>Nightmare</title>
			<description>Tim awoke in the foyer, his t-shirt soaked with sweat and stuck to his chest. His glasses lay beside him, severely bent at the bridge. His legs ached. He lay there for a few minutes, breathing slowly and staring up at the ceiling. More specifically, he was staring at the dim lightbulb screwed into i..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wgaylord/1152068/</link>
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			<title>Subligna</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He thought he could stare into her eyes forever.&amp;nbsp; They weren't particularly pretty.&amp;nbsp; Nor was she.&amp;nbsp; She was more cute than she was pretty - there is a difference, after all.&amp;nbsp; It was the way she used them.&amp;nbsp; She looked through them as though she were both in ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wgaylord/1080825/</link>
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