http://slow.writerscafe.org/TheFrozenMan The original writings of author William James McPhee en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776109983 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 they won't even stop and read what i have written...  as if the problems of the world   do not concern them and their  fanciful suits made of the                      &nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheFrozenMan/440342/ my boot heel grinds the same corner of the cement step... both the step and the heel showing the age of my depression which often seats me  out of the home, glass in hand.the ice cubes are my only connection to this world... for i cannot hear the wind, nor.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheFrozenMan/434961/ i am a conspiracy theorist, because   i see what others fail to… because   of life-long worries and because   of a heightened awareness. i know that there are governmental   big brothers dying to give me a   wedgy and i know that t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheFrozenMan/434740/ I saw a microwave waiting for the bus this morning.It sat squarely on the bench, considerately off to the side should any other appliances need to travel.I only spied it for a moment, as the depth of the scene did not strike me until I’d driven some blocks onward.I’d .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheFrozenMan/434739/  goddamit i'm tired of wearingmasks for the sake of living  ... because i cannot afford      food without a paycheck  ... because i cannot keep      friends by being a b*****d  ... because at .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheFrozenMan/434340/ my pace is slow, though not  so much as to imply i've  doubts. i see the world differently... as  though every breath is  an opportunity... instead  of a caged requirement. (a reason to live rather than  a forced raison d'etre.)&nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheFrozenMan/433766/  the shock of a memory should not  cause you to flinch... visions  which only you can see... hazed  across the reality of the world   which for a time stops breathing,  suspended till your mind can  rationalize the violence. a fist to the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheFrozenMan/433761/ The cell is thirteen and a half by eleven feet.  The floor is dirt, and on the really cold mornings last March, i remember being able to see frost on the tiny blades of grass that tried to grow till they realized there was no life in this place.  And so they died, leaving us alone.i can&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheFrozenMan/433696/ P-K4 (let’s never speak of this)I haven’t spoken to him in   twenty years. He must be old now (as I   believe I will be soon). He taught me to play when I   was just four. To us,   chess was a means of   communication (for.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheFrozenMan/433034/ a strong wind curls up   under my umbrella   like a drunken b*****d   reaching under a   woman’s skirt, and   without permission,   tears it inside   out.this leaves me wet and   extremely upset, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheFrozenMan/433033/ “la musique” he speaks   in his native language…   “ah, la musique.” i listen, grateful for the glass   of wine which he has   handed me, and the   turntable spins slowly…   the nee.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheFrozenMan/433031/ “colder...” was all it whispered,   its voice as soft as a child,   its intent as powerful as   its being. i struggled with my passions,   with my life and with   my choices.“colder...”“i can no lon.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheFrozenMan/433000/ would that she’d slain     them… I’d not have to   continue her work…         I’d see colors as  they are meant to    be seen…      .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheFrozenMan/432999/ How cruel that I stammer over words   when written by someone else… that   my mind cannot accept a logical progression   of ideas and emotions.But that I write my own… then, ah then   I can dance with the language… I can &.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheFrozenMan/432920/ i am made of paper, and   i’ve been torn… daily…   by those trying to shape me   into the being they would   like me to be. yet like an oragami pattern   too difficult for the weak-willed,   i have been f.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheFrozenMan/432907/