http://slow.writerscafe.org/MrJ The original writings of author JR Darewood en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776064891 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 You want to thinkthey will remember you foreverthe bond you shared   will last eternalbut there will come a timewhen every one you loved    will forgetwhen the eyes go blankwhen the skin goes coldand memory vanishes   vapors in the winds of time http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1675594/ Word your argument, scholar.Take the truth and cut itdismember itpiece by piecedisfigureddistilledit's eyes and fingersliquefied in your cauldronthe stench of its melting flesh on your nose--a good scholar does not balk--to fit into your academic molda monstro.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1562605/ The buzzing of flies on near-dead eyesTrails of tears and the tremors of fearThe bile-like bitterness of other people's livesmakes my stomach twist but my tongue won't stopSnap a photoScratch a noteI'll catalogue your agony More than a lifetime of painburied in my brainso I can show them but a .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1551066/ I came up with this while cleaning today http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1542954/ My .    mind.frantIcsearching.                       handsand.              kNeesin the d.       a.        r.         k..     &nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1476076/ There was a time when I thought I would die fightingThat no trial could bow my headBut life is a momentand every moment endsThere's no more time to turn the tideNo time to escape this cageFailure looms before me, a wicked grin beneath its monstrous eyesI am too tired to stare at it's hideous facetoo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1429295/ You walk alonewith your indomitable soulweathering the stormsa ship through a squall in a sea of lightningYou walk alonewith your independent spiritbattered by fatebloodied and crawling to the finish lineYou walk alonewith your beloved freedomyour only company a c.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1413035/ There's a twisted feeling that no one else knowsThe horror of loveThe terror of calmIt's putrid and sweetthe decay you taste while everyone else smilesthe pity you feel in the joy of a cockfightthe pang you feel when your friend is a murdererand your cruel nemesis a beloved saint the rest of th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1380591/ Steamstill rolled off of the freshly cooked poultry, swirling around the candlelittable set intimately for two. Lord Dyrk’s eyes studied Lady Alyssa carefully asshe drank in the song of a green-clad minstrel, standing proudly beside theirtable. Her eyes widened in astonishment, and she.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1346746/ Two friends find themselves trapped on opposite sides of a rebellion. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1346727/ So I wrote this as a song that makes a cameo in my book, Unsung Heroes, but I need help with it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1333018/ I walk alone to the beat of my heart  while the rest of you dancesweaty, hips grinding to a rhythm i cannot hear  watching me like ghosts  phantasms of faces  ethereal and formless   like zephyrs in the rainI don't feel the drops   don't feel your gaze &n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1276930/ Shadows danced along therocky walls of the secret chamber, silver wards and glyphs shimmering in theflickering candlelight.  Lade shookagainst the unearthly bindings that held him in place, to no avail.  They were indestructible.  The intricately carved sheath and hilt of theO.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1268759/ “A song, for the Hero ofXith Xanan!” an immaculately green-clad bard proclaimed.Polite applause spreadthroughout the room as the bard drew himself up proudly and took his firstbreath.“How does it feel to bethe guest of honor?”“The guest of honor or.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1268757/ Lade tried to swallow thelump in his throat.  Tonight was thenight.The moon rising behindLord Dyrk’s manor, the enormous estate was a beacon of dancing lights andfestive music in the darkness of night. A cool breeze ruffled the soft grassesthat filled the lord’s enclos.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1268754/ Finally, the prize is in sight. If Alyssa can survive long enough to take it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1259654/ When you get what's coming to you, sometimes it's not what you had hoped. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1250511/ Amex learns that it's the songs, not the deeds, that make the hero. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1249076/ Take care to know who the real teacher is. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1248881/ Lade had never been inside the castle before. If only he wasn't in the dungeons. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1242582/ Dahlan told me that in 2006 a villagewoman discovered mercury underground when she was digging with her hoe.  She called her children to collect the shiny“miracle water” in a used water bottle, and they drank it. It wasn’t madepu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1238051/             YahyaMuaz is the Secretary General of Partai Aceh. His eyes are red and bleary; I estimate he sleeps only 4 hours anight.  Yahya’s task is to negotiate withPartai Ac.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1237810/             “We lostthe war,” an ex-combatant told me sadly as he smoked a cigarette and watchedthe moon.  It was a commonsentiment.  Aspinall writes that as GAMsoldiers r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1237346/ [The promises of democracy,decentralization and autonomy only brought new forms of exploitation to Aceh.]In 1998, Suharto resigned following acombination of economic collapse, international pressure, domestic rioting anda powerful student movemen.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1237160/ Long before the democratic revolutions of the Arab Spring,Europe’s own Spring of Nations in 1848 brought an unprecedented wave ofdemocratization, but their colonies, locked in exploitative economicrelationships, did not enjoy the same luxury. T.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1237159/ @font-face { font-family: "Times";}@font-face { font-family: "ＭＳ 明朝";}@font-face { font-family: "Cambria Math";}@font-face { font-family: "Cambria";}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-siz.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1232455/ Hard choices and a deadly liquid await http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1230946/ So I ran over a rabbit tonight and it inspired me to write this story about zombies. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1226356/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1225714/ “Yes,Anton, I fear you are correct.  Dark daysare indeed ahead of us.” TheArchmagus Azaroth looked out of the window from his study atop the Tower ofSecrets, the tallest structure on Eyrth save for the mountains of the Fell.&nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1225620/ The night was a chorus of fear, and Brianna sang its melody. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1225282/ Thanusfrowned as the young manservant clothed him; he’d barely slept the nightbefore, consumed with anticipation. Running his finger along the signet ring on his right hand gave him ameasure of peace, however.  It wasn’t hissigil the ring bore; it was a symbol far.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1225261/             Rhys heavedgasping for air as the Second Trial concluded. He touched his face.  Yes, he wasreal, this was real.  The illusions hehad seen had been so real.  Situations ofdire impo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1221896/ Jor and Tyril slid silently throughthe castle halls, desperately looking for a way out.  Lockpick in hand Tyril pressed quietlyagainst a door.“Psst! Tyril!” Jor hissed fromacross the hall, “this one’s open.”.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1221892/              The otherapprentices usually didn’t pay Rhys much mind-- they rarely even spoke tohim.  But today they were all looking athim.  Today was the day he took theTrials.  Toda.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1221889/ Lade gripped the bars of the cell,fighting back despair. The bars were cold and unfeeling-- indifferent to theknots twisting in his stomach. “This is your fault, Jor.”Jor shrugged, “Sure, it was myidea-- but I didn’t thi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1221871/  Thanus was troubled as he walked through thehalls of the castle. Every flickering of a torch or the rustling of a tapestrysuddenly took on a menacing meaning-- Bain’s invisible voices could b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1221869/ Lade frowned as Jor murmured tohimself, a mix of humming and singing. Lade winced. Jor was a terriblesinger.            “Hm-mm...  moon’s gleaming... Hmmm-mmm hmm-mmm-mm.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1220422/ A fledgeling knight finds more than he's looking for in the Inner City. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1220417/ Castle Vael has never seen the likes of these three. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1220416/ In a world where legends are lies and heroes fail, things are never what they seem. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1220413/ "Heroes don’t really exist," said the king, "but winners do." http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1209466/ LETTER: June 3, 2006 It’s so nice to have you to write this to�"it’s cathartic,really.  Culture shock is a strangething, it never seems to hit when you’d expect it.  I&rsq.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1184368/ JOURNAL: July 13-15, 2009 Izac showed me the bleached wooden beads around his neck."This is for women but I can wear it because I am rasta." Heoccasionally twisted  tiny buds on hishead, hoping to speed the development of dreadlocks. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1184359/ LETTER: July, 2009 “You’re different from other Americans,” Alvaro remarked.“How so?”“I met some Americans here who thought Spain was in Mexicoand that Spanish people eat Mexican food.”&l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1184358/ Letters from the edge http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1184357/ II. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1182231/ I have these memories, and they hurtBuried long into the pastcreeping along the edges of an aching dreamshadows lingering behind the numbness of everydayinvisible save for the absence,the cavity of an excised soul,an emptiness that speaks of something that was once therea memoryof the horrible thing.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1181060/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1178101/ Some things never change. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MrJ/1177483/