http://slow.writerscafe.org/Prodigo The original writings of author Prodigo en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775995352 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15           The drought was good for fishing. Youcould get close to the deep parts of the river where it had been carved out andthere were channels where the fish were on the hot days to keep cool. If youthrew a net into it, you could catch many at once. The bend of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/964942/ The story of a man who recently died http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/886166/ There are six dressed men and there is a boxThere are no windows, there are no locks  Heavy rain and a flight of stairsSix dressed men ruin their hair  Holding the box and holding it tightDown the stairs and into the light  The crowd had come through great wooden doorsD.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/724120/ There, in the desert, we met. We did not smile nor shake hands nor anything like that. We only lied there, in the shade of the dunes feeling victorious because we were alive. The man beside me looked remarkably similar. Without a word, I believe we agreed that was comforting and so it was. He s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/724119/ This story was translated into English after being found in an abandoned prison along el Rivera de Santa Maria.  The prisoner said something to him but he did not answer. The guard was leaning back against the rail in a chair opposite the cell, and reading a book. The prisoner repeated, "T.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/724118/ I am to return to the dark country; to the wasteland and the black gate. The horsemen and their steel bridles and their staving children. It is a sullen place where fools are fed while saying foolish things. They will choke and the dark country will not be so dark. I live in the dark country. I live.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/654227/ The ducks, they dance and the garden is burningThe people, they prance and the garden is burningThe fish, they feast and the garden is burningNobody knows the garden is burningThe baker, he bakes and the city is burningThe sick people shake and the city is burningThe lovers, they love and the city i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/652770/ Infected man, what is your name?All of us care so who is to blame?We see you suffer and watch you squalYour body is broken. What hunger you feel!Where is the good? Where has it gone?Fill the pit and fill it till dawnFire then ashes, watch them burn!Watch infected man; it is your turn! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/649301/                           Thesea salt dried and powdered his lips. The tide would wash it away and the sunwould dry it again, leaving another film of powdered salt. The.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/638271/ An essay. I was given a 50 on this paper. Tell me what you think I deserved... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/621539/ Love is a fortune that must make the seeker weary and sick. With a beaten path behind him, he has found his treasure and that sad road will seem to him like a golden trail leading to his happiness. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/608473/ Haha, it's pretty bad http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/607282/ Chapter 4Anold man’s hands made of sea salt and fish scales pulled a net over the side ofa passing ship. Tiny crabs and small fish caught in the net plummeted back intothe water and hand nets retrieved them to serve as breakfast for the crew. Theseasoning for the meat was boiled ov.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/604852/ Bundled up beneath the sheets, Hardin watched the old man rocking with grit teeth and pursed lips as smoke rings hovered over the balcony railing and dispersing with a swift breeze. His heavy burrowing eyes squinted towards the black forest and the shadowy tops of its highest branches and his restle.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/530042/ The pot blackened with heat and the fire licked the round bottom. Gordon stood at the edge of the stove bent over with a poker stirring the burning wood and bearing the tiny sparks that bit into his outstretched arm. The poker scraped the steel door as he pushed it close. He glanced over to Hardin t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/530040/  Thirty one hours of sea salt swirls beneath the skin. The waves tumble past him and his muscles strip one another to tread the water as the waves cradle him to a nearby shore. The tears in his lips and the crust of chalky sea salt coat the cracks while his bloodshot eyes are sprinkled by col.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/530039/  Thirty one hours of sea salt swirls beneath the skin. The waves tumble past him and his muscles strip one another to tread the water as the waves cradle him to a nearby shore. The tears in his lips and the crust of chalky sea salt coat the cracks while his bloodshot eyes are sprinkled by col.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/520557/ The Vulture does not fly at night.He shifts his feet down the branchReveling in the absence of lightWaiting for the chanceHis crooked brow and wide eyeThe flutter of great black wingsHis beak is full of liesHis talons are ready to stingShort grass makes easy prey.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/488203/  The hive mind is made to be broken Each one crippled, every door open Skitter the honey, eat their wings Bash the walls, kill their queen All together, they buzz and sing Thrashing their legs, mad to sting Bring your axes, cut down the tr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/486198/  Guided misfortune is elusive to us all A handful will fly and millions will crawl Tighten the reins on the devil’s steed We've filled this world with tyranny, lust, and greed The ship has sunk and is scraping the ocean floor Manned by the wi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/483678/ My questions have been answeredI stand in lineTo be among my menTo confess to no crimeI was the beginningAnd will forever be the endLook them in the eyeI will die just like themI am guilty of the truthNothing moreShots ring in the darknessBullet casings hit the floorI hear no.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/466296/  Starving little birdies, pluck out your eyes so you may cry. Restless little birdies, clip your wings so you may fly Chirping little birdies, Pierce your tongue so you may speak Guilty little birdies Climb to the edge so you may .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/461156/ Shackles for free menWith these we will crawlThere is no endNo end at all http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/460087/ A very odd life he lived. Never his fortune did it lead him to a street that couldn’t kill him, a simple passerby with a cup in hand.  He jiggled it in their noses only to frighten children with a few cents in their pocket. Copper was gold, and the only gold he would see would be at the g.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/460084/ He invented the machine,A machine with knobs and made of steelWith it, he would let in the fiendsThe world would never know it was realSo he told them all they could seeUntil the first of them could feelNo one came to his show, but he did not fleeInstead he gave them all a dealHe let.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/460083/ Woke up to a brand new day, and it’s snowing. The sun is shining, and there is a tornado headed this way. Cars are flying, so birds walk everywhere now. I suppose they are afraid to be a part of someone’s windshield. You can see the ocean from the desert, nowadays. People skinny dip in A.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/460082/ I’ve built the Bridge to Admiration. It is crossable? No. This bridge was built to a place no one can go but me. I can see it all the time. It’s so pretty. I want to find a friend to cross with me. So I built a friend too. He was so scared at first. I told him I would hold his hand. He a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/460081/ Creepiest piece I've ever written I think http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/460078/ The mountain and the manBitter and stoneThe single moment that you are aloneForaging the landDrops of heavenStick to your handsThis climb will never endYou are the mountain and I am the manStranded and blindThere is no food to findTerrible winds shred your faceThis must be a fo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/459629/ I am the key and you are the doorYou are the carpet and I am the floorTo see, to touch, to smell or to tasteI am the head and you are the faceYou are the shadow and I am the manI am the fingers and you are the handTo fall, to crumble, to devour and to dieI am the words and you are lie.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Prodigo/459620/