http://slow.writerscafe.org/acb The original writings of author ACB en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776210943 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15  Odd Man Out            The layout of Allegretti Motors resembles the cookie cutter floor plan most dealerships employ. The entrance immediately opens up to the showroom floor, displaying dozens of vehicles that are changed weekly, floodi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/acb/474205/ An inside look at a major television network in Chicago. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/acb/474204/  Cryptomnesia It isn’t often that individuals are ableTo comprehend even the most simple concept.Singing another’s song as our own: inadvertent plagiarism.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/acb/474196/  Rotten Georgia PeachThe tribulations of Ty Cobb  I was a fighter, ask Billy Evans,The umpire who found outAfter losing our brawl.Also ask the one handed man,Who from his seat, impairedFrom an industrial accident,Had only three fingersOn his lone hand toShield .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/acb/474193/  Turbulence in Leland The waves shook, an earthquake as the boat departed,The morning sun cold like the deepening currents.I could still taste the stale coffee, felt my knees shaking as I saw the landShrinking while the beat of the hull cut waves as we made our way.Once familia.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/acb/474192/  Lights of Temecula  The ocean is on fire with reflection,Sand soft as silk envelopes on the basin. Wind spreads sand like fire, a thundering flame,The leaves whisper it all aloud.I promise you this, a little’s enough.A blue-black shade glooms above,The sky above erupt.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/acb/474191/  Circumvent Navigation Finding myself in a whirlpool of circadian rhythm,I am lost in familiar repetition.I see today, a predictable outcome.The result haunts me; I fight the urge to stray. Lost in familiar repetition,A daring decision and I’m reborn.Haunted by.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/acb/474190/   Maple  Propped in a corner sits a bat. Its body lacquered with red finish,deep crimson. I question the notion of restoring authenticity, making it            new again, removing all the cowhide bruises... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/acb/474189/  The Loss I’m sick of hearingall those songs onthe radio. The oneswe used to play, As the sun disappeared.The vibrationsfiercelykicking my eardrum. The electronic tonesof Kid A pouringthrough thePontiac’s stereo, Ended the silenc.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/acb/474188/  Calving  Packed inside the corral, mother and childAre wedged against a man. In the rotting barn I yield the Iron,Marking their place in the heard. We force them through the chute,Making selections as we reach its end. The ones who stay are care.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/acb/474187/