http://slow.writerscafe.org/BTBeamon The original writings of author BTBeamon en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776013039 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 She received this life at birth. She, young Kate, knows nothing else. The same ritual every day: awake in darkness, in her little closet, anticipating a thin stream of light from under the doorway, from the outer room. An invisible hand slides a small stack of paper and sharp pencil into the blackne.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/565214/ The story, Fidei asks: is it real? This question, the most important question of the time. Is it real? What is real and what is not? Who do we, the newcomers, perhaps the firstcomers, gaze towards for knowledge and advice? What may we hope for? More clearly, what is in it for us? Some of these organ.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/563868/ A man discovers the method for death-exemption. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/556064/ Fossa tells a story: ingenious. This pioneer overcomes all obstacles! Gathered around a sizzling evening fire, Fidei and the now walking (and wide-eyed-and-eared) daughter, along with her pair of matriarchs, listen to the gentleman-in-charge rattle off a sincere narrative of reality. It goes as .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/553497/ A Price To Be Paid . . . “We’ll begin,” says Meric, who is standing before me, looming as I sit, “with this: We are all talented in many ways.” He says, “And: Let’s decide what we want, and go for it.” And I say, “You’ve been eat.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/547848/ But not for long . . .  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/547842/ Everything Changes This won’t go on. I can’t keep acting like this. Something will be wrong with it. There will be a problem. It won’t work. It won’t pass. All I can say is “No.” All I can be is negative. I’m getting hysterical. I’m breath.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/547839/ Gregorian Let’s get the time straight. We’re now directly after my confrontation with Faust, where she accused me of f*****g, and I discovered her betrayal. All of that happened after the night with Kate, when we didn’t f**k, and she told me all about St. Hill. Do you .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/547836/ Revelation (Part Two) Kate brushes tears away, pulling her feet away from me, and sitting feet on the sofa, with hands and arms wrapped around her legs. The display looked much like that of a child. I receive flash images of Annie Lark, doing something similar. Kate says, “If his book .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/547832/ Accusations At our cause’s headquarters, minus Meric, Faust and myself prepare for the days canvasing. We carefully dress ourselves--we wear full suits--to ensure an extremely clean cut and professional appearance. That way, when we say we know something, it looks that way. At first, I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/547826/ Revelation (Part One) We’re resting, Kate and I, in her own residence. We’ve done nothing besides speak to one another; not as though it makes a difference. By reengaging with her, I am in major violation. By returning to her home, I hate to think of the consequences if I were caugh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/547824/ Him Back to business. I have Faust drop me off in the same neighborhood as the day before--the Lark neighborhood, for now. I told her about the one hundred dollar donation, and that the entire block had shown huge interest in our cause. She lapped up the information, as eager as I to please.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/547819/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/547815/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/547812/ Maric Faust and I convene at our headquarters. Just the two of us and our supervisor, a gentleman we call “Maric.” Maric has been training individuals for the field for at least thirty years, so he says. The man’s had a long life, and I can only assume he knows quite a bit. Th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/547808/ Faust Kate D’Angelo, for a period of weeks, existed as “Interesting Person X” so to speak. An individual, primarily opposite my gender (I am male) that I pay great attention to on a regular basis. An as-often-as-I-can basis, that I try to bend in my favor. It began in a bui.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/547806/ Zeal
 “Two? Will a booth be okay?” the waiter asks us. “Yes,” I say, and the woman next to me nods. I thump into the soft, high-backed bench seat. She drops gently onto the opposite side. “What to drink for you two?” “Water,” I say. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/547804/ A purpose-driven man meets a purpose-driven and strange woman; forcing each to re-examine an eerie and frightening life-history. (Vague and rushed description) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/547803/ Fulfillment came next. Ancilla--do not trouble over which, for soon enough they are all as identical shapes shuffled about and scattered to the ground, without identity, just as intended--locates a spot hidden between shrubbery, absent of sound, absent of supervision and instruction for one sweet mo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/534856/ On the Earth grew a tree; on the tree grew a person. A human bloom, slow and precise.  In the beginning, a small oval of flesh buds; a single slice, reserved only for one, whatever it should become. All things that existed prior to this living, throbbing blossom kept hope in mind--for all kne.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/533958/ Civilization follows a blooming of the first human being from a tree. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/533957/ Back cover summary. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BTBeamon/443829/