http://slow.writerscafe.org/BlandStreetBloom The original writings of author Nici en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776004733 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 It was evening when I built the fireKindled in twilightNight dragging on a veil of shadowsBefore morning rays shone throughAfternoon stretched its courseAnd with it came evening againWhere a fresh log and heavy exhaleSprung forth smoldering embersA Phoenix reignited to lifeFlames l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BlandStreetBloom/432676/  I see a dusky window in my dream. It’s frosted, but I can see through it. Shapes blur this glass, familiar, yet detached. I creep closer to this pane, creating condensation with my cold breath. I see familiar faces smiling through the glass that separates us. I see my best friend, seem.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BlandStreetBloom/418847/ Abundant strands of hope glisten on the grass, tall weeds that desolate the weak. Those that have fallen lie defeated, their many hands closed over in empathy. I smile as I dance on them, my walk to victory. I see their hands rise as I gently tread, a farewell wave, as the wind hums through my finge.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BlandStreetBloom/411397/ Your truth is a dark spark. A water-logged secret, gripping land for all its worth. I don’t have a reason to dispute the myth—the paradox of you that is, but isn’t. But your head is turned, and your heart is off. All strength is sought in frailty, but you fail to recognize the di.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BlandStreetBloom/407591/    Today, I think about you, miss you, want you, love you. That’s not out of the ordinary, but the thoughts are profoundly different. Starker. A world peeled naked in remembering; even during the act, everything trembles. I remember every word, no matter how small. Every l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BlandStreetBloom/402550/ You try to catch her, as she darts between reasons.  In her weak moments, you know that her dark eyes always flash, held fast to things like love and unpredictability.  But her roots are torn up, her silks disheveled, her stance guarded.  She’s still beautiful against a bac.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BlandStreetBloom/399487/ Today, we're broken. Today, we're growing wild and apart, like red flowers in a bed of brown grass. Swaying with the wind, blushing in the sun- yet never meeting, never greeting. Today, you and me, we're wilted- dry and scabby, bruised, almost bloodied. Like a life that didn't mend, like time that d.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BlandStreetBloom/398896/ More of a rant than a story, tbh (: http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BlandStreetBloom/397693/  Almost incomprehensible,the little lark stutters, sputteringmad notes, each one drowningin useless agony, as the last songsparks an inward frenzy, and the echoesravage the mouth of some endless well. But where one burns outthe other follows, and follows quickly,a resti.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BlandStreetBloom/397653/  Love that eats the firethat burns the world, whereeverything’s upside downand halfway to Crazy--only sanity, for the weak.  Love that dances through waterand smoke, and soul-peeled smiles; the tragedythat is, in the simplest terms, bliss—until it unrav.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BlandStreetBloom/397239/