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		<title>Clayman | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/Clayman</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Clayman</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>&quot;Continuity Obscurica&quot;</title>
			<description>Written from the perspective of a stranger sitting in a restuarant and looking at a group of youths eating and enjoying themselves outside&quot;</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Clayman/482471/</link>
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		<item>
			<title>&quot;Requiem&quot;</title>
			<description>We all have dreams that never got to grow up with us. This is a requiem, an ode to the dreams wandering the cemetery.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Clayman/481460/</link>
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			<title>Materfamilias I</title>
			<description>Just felt like writing</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Clayman/481096/</link>
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			<title>Pyre</title>
			<description>The Pyre of absolution distills purity</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Clayman/480618/</link>
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			<title>Course To Die</title>
			<description>War</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Clayman/480617/</link>
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			<title>Mother</title>
			<description>Selling off her face in lotswe turn a blind eyeto her caustic tearsas we erectour exhalers of ebon air.She never agreed to this.Vampirichypodermicsplungerelentlesslyinchaseofancientveinstoextracthersableblood.Coerced she nurtures our defiled needs.Ab..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Clayman/480614/</link>
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			<title>Setting</title>
			<description>This is what i go through when setting a diamond into a ring for a customer.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Clayman/480613/</link>
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			<title>Motive</title>
			<description>Glancing at the carriagesas my train catterpillars by,I pause silently to see your face.Memory of you but a sprout of yesterday.The years stand as a triplet since you left.They recommended burningall the shoeboxeswhere i keep you alive.Carefully pushing me alongto advance,pro..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Clayman/480612/</link>
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