<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<rss version="2.0">
	<channel>
		<title>Fevers &amp; Mirrors | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/elsontees</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Fevers &amp; Mirrors</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
		<lastBuildDate>1776021575</lastBuildDate>
		<generator>WritersCafe.org RSS Generator</generator>
		<ttl>15</ttl>
		<item>
			<title>Mirrors</title>
			<description>Last week, I woke up the worst of feelings. My stomach was churning and I could feel my scratchy throat about to heave up another remorseful level of my stomach acid. I could have sworn my insides were baking beneath a nonexistent sun, and the stripes of my curtains seemed to create zigzags in my br..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/elsontees/1148058/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>I cannot taste</title>
			<description>My tongue is etched with tiny treesand roots that tickle my spine in horrific dread.Soon after I had escalated nearly down to my kneesone hand shaking out&amp;nbsp;calligraphy on tile floorsand a thought that never quite sent me to bed.I fainted thereafter, metaphors streaking my wristsand temptation su..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/elsontees/1146938/</link>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>