http://slow.writerscafe.org/laefil The original writings of author S. Liberace en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776081028 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15  Beasts of burdenand witch's brewMixed and mottledbundled up thrown, tossed under---    "They'll eat you alive," she said tome, one stormy night,on the eve of her birth.   "And what about you?" askedthe parrot on her ceilin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/476437/  sultry nights are usually spent in gold and paperi spend them in rain. You know, i cant possibly think anymore.i can't possibly be anymore.most steam i use to lovemost flowers i give to forget my body exhausted, i've reclinedon staircases and cemeteriesto be fulfi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/468930/  they say you walk thestreets in scarlet well i say you walkin your own blood. what is a virginflower but sweet? i say yours islike drowning flesh... drowning, rabidflesh. what happened to us? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/462348/  “Who is that?” was where our story began, and where it continues as a legend; an urban myth, really, in the form of fables and fairy tales – such as the more you tell it, the more extravagant it will become.     Said Charles to Charlie, &quot.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/462032/     No sound. There was not even a whisper in the dank depths of the abandoned Underground. The Earth had ended, Mars' b*****d daughter had sought her revenge on her dying mother. It was an eerie calm that enveloped the dead planet. The Angels had gone elsewhere. Humans were gone, as .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/459041/  Oh, my darling Prince Adrian,How she beckons at your name,And the stars could have loved no one betterThan you, my Prince, with no maimOn your skin or in your mind--Perfect! Extraordinarily sublime!The world offers you nothing, you sayExcept beauty and dismay. You tell me:While.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/458730/ "I have sent the message, my lord." These words were spoken from the very mouth of Verdandi herself; her long, fair hair and queenly manner offering a most distant atmosphere. She was presenting herself to the Warlord Gabriel, and he could not have been more pleased with her. He smiled at her, and n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/457098/ "I will begin by telling you that we have found the boy. He did not notice us, Abel. He is almost perfect to harvest," recited Rigel, who then proceeded to smirk and mumble a slurred "What the f**k was that?", at which Terrance, the writer, sighed, exasperated.��&#201326608.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/457095/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/457093/ We were in the garden. The serpents were swimming around in the air, calmly, Aldriat noted (I could tell from her expression), and she looked at the pink grass that grew along the edge of the stream. It bubbled from the earth. Jamreet and Kolani were with her, and the little Vartat, wearing his bird.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/457087/ My name is Kolossus and I have quite a break-through to tell about. Have you ever heard of Earth? The third dimension's human-world, where beauty flourishes in anything characterized by nature and fertility. That world is unlike ours in its structure, compared to our lack of it.   &.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/457081/  It's just a dream,said the lamb to the firefly --and How! when life, asdreamy as it is, with thepooled cauldron at the back,and then the bright orchardat the front, all appears tobe something wakeful... You have a blooming lotus.Careful, tap it, it is the flowerof th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/449883/  so i slept.dormant, for over one thousand years --and i still can not come up with love's distinctfrequency.together: a flower gave his voice,and a bear sacrificed his honey;and still, i can not find anything sweeter(or more bitter)than the unprejudiced dew that spotted your fa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/449882/  "misery", yes, that dreary thing,which scratches down your throat andmakes your heart sag. a lemon tree --that is your hope, sitting under it,the white goat-monster, the pheasantpleasantly, presently on the cliff of tomorrow. so anyway, floatation devices are qui.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/449049/  My former name was Catalina Cardozo. I was born in Spain, around 1450, to a family discriminated by Catholicism. My mother and father were both Jewish, and we lived a poor, secluded, but fulfilling life in a small stone house miles away from the nearest town. My father usually traveled to th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/449027/         December 14, 2009.   I decided to finally get something to eat, a couple of days ago. I haven't been writing, even though there's so much going through my head it's insane. Memories of Alice have been coming back to me, despite how m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/448854/          December 5, 2009.   Alice's birthday. This is the first time I've been outside in a while. It's cold, but that doesn't matter to me. There is snow everywhere, but it's not pure and clean like it would be in the country -- it's .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/448853/         November 24, 2009.   Again, I have woken up with blood on my hands and in my mouth. I think I might have accidentally gone out and fed. Hopefully there isn't a body under the bed.   No, there is none. I might have .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/448852/         November 23, 2009.   I have been laying in bed for more days than I thought I would. The person who came was a female friend of Alice's, wondering where she was. I told her I didn't know, and she looked at me with this weird expressi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/448851/          November 20, 2009.   Three weeks ago. I've been sitting in this room for too long. The walls seem as if they are going to collapse on me due to the guilt I am experiencing. The ceiling wants to eat me alive. The bed smells like.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/448850/                                 November 12.                Blood is on my hands. I do believe that I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/448849/ love, homocide, and minor cannibalism. what else is there to be said? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/448847/ for once there was a child,bleak, at that, with doubt and fear,but an innocuous sense of morality.for once there was the parent, the lover: whose touch could cure all,but whose cure came at a cost.for once there was something called innocence,innocence lost,innocence twisted,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/laefil/448828/