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		<title>Rachell R. Taylor | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/Rachell</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Rachell R. Taylor</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>Children</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;As children we played in the dark, but that wasn&amp;rsquo;t so long ago. Of laughter and finding fingers and faces. We never needed lights because we felt what we wanted to see, and we understood the rest is waiting for us. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachell/475278/</link>
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			<title>Alone</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;It&amp;rsquo;s not as if they were aloneBut they really had no one beside them.They all believed in one anotherOr at least prayed they did.&amp;nbsp;The basic truth was, they were all individuals, Only loosely united by common goalsOn the rare occasion of one lasting more than a few mo..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachell/475277/</link>
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			<title>Scratch No. 253</title>
			<description>Some scratches of ideas I found on my computer. These are about Dan, before we were dating, playing in the snow.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachell/346430/</link>
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			<title>Balancing Act</title>
			<description>I dreamed I was this person, spinning plates. And I watched this plate keep going and going. It was something I started, but I had no connection to its success throughout my act. It just kept going. I wondered in my dream as I stared at this plate&amp;#2013266053; is tha</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachell/255034/</link>
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			<title>Time Spent</title>
			<description>To Robb.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachell/255024/</link>
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			<title>The Dawn</title>
			<description>A poem about him.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachell/225572/</link>
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			<title>The Wire</title>
			<description>Romance is a voice in a map of black phone lines, his love for me, clicking in static. I hear the words &amp;lsquo;amazing&amp;rsquo;&amp;lsquo;wonderful&amp;rsquo;, and &amp;lsquo;brilliant&amp;rsquo; like Morse code for our life to be. Each hit a mandatory pulse in my chest, a deep breath of thick atmosphere his voice cr..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachell/111487/</link>
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			<title>Ours</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;I&amp;rsquo;ve gone so many miles and still I&amp;rsquo;m in the same cityI don&amp;rsquo;t know if I like getting D&amp;eacute;j&amp;agrave; vu off of all my old routes homeHere and now becomes less permanent; it&amp;rsquo;s all soon to changeI&amp;rsquo;d appreciate some controlEach address a reset household;..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachell/40597/</link>
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			<title>Small</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;She felt so small.He looked so small sitting there, holding his legs like bundles of worry.And she knew now why he painted; he was searching for the color of relief.She felt like that brush, pouring all the shades of her knowledge and giving him no satisfaction, so tiny.So she took h..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachell/40595/</link>
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			<title>Turns Out</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;Turns out, my life fits in a 10x8 box. Nobody will turn their heads if I slip off the premises. Okay then. My daughter - my co-pilot - will ask where home is only twenty three times and my unlucky black cat, will channel my probable fortune the entire way, purring at 70 miles per hour (you b..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachell/35888/</link>
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			<title>No Words Left</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;I&amp;rsquo;ve been standing in this spot for hoursChewing what is left of my fingers, the skin raw, bleeding with the abuse of my indecisionFrozen but my shoulders aren&amp;rsquo;t tense (I was never cold when I should have been)My feelings are persistently fumbling towards you, clumsy on how..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachell/34963/</link>
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			<title>3rd Person</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;I know this guy whose sapphire eyes are telling me to let go. The soft scratch of his lips makes me thirsty; my mouth has never been so dry. Tension and comfort are mingling, having words and I&amp;rsquo;m waiting on the verdict to breathe. My laugh has never been so honest, my exhale never been..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachell/34697/</link>
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