http://slow.writerscafe.org/bonniea97 The original writings of author K. en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776010186 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 today is not an okay night.my mind is running a mile a minute, thinking of what you said & what you did & what we were going to do.I was okay for a while. because we'd be friends & then at least I'd be talking to you.but then I hear your name on the tv or I think about that time we.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1813870/   My eyes blink slowly as they adjust to the bright light shining in through the window. I forgot to close the blinds. I sit up, the bird song and soft chatter of people on the street finally reaching my ears.   There are a pair of feet crossed on my coffee table on the balcony, the hem of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1805610/      "Ha, you know how it is."           ...     "Yeah, it's really busy today."           ...     "I guess because it's a business day."&nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1801820/    yes. i said this over and over and over. yes. yes. yes yes yes.                                   no. you said that, but i didn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1785287/ S.we watched movies and shows in my bed but you never touched me like that.      that was nice. thank you for that. we went dancing and to dinner and sports games. you helped me after W. even after your aunt died.       and you still t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1776702/   Hey!                        Hey  How have you been?            I've been good. How are you?I can't say how I feel. I can't .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1722308/ Old white truck beds painted red.          Red because she thought that would make her happier.                        Happier because it wouldn'.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1697475/ I sit, the sun hot on my back, my legs falling asleep, folded underneath me. My papers are spread out in front of me, torn, filled with words; much like my mind.                    You cross it with every breat.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1689184/   He said the Army helped him get away from the emotions. He compared it to a light switch- one that you could flip on and off; that's what they taught him, I guess. Personally, I think it just shows he needs to flip the switch more often, it's been too dark.   He said he likes drinking al.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1667281/   "Funny how things work out, huh?"                                           &n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1657928/   "So that's what it's like, you think?"          "Heaven? Yeah. I'd like to think that that's it would be what it'd be like for me."  "For you?"          "I like to think Heaven is like the world- it.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1623233/ You’ve only been gone one day; one morning, really. But you know what it feels like?                                             .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1596237/ Open doors and open windows. Sneaking out and staying late.Closed doors and closed windows.Sleeping in and staying quiet.Closed doors and open windows. Whispering words and waining kisses.Open doors and closed windows. Waiting for you and walking about.Unmade beds.Hugs and kiss.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1595269/ Sometimes when I'm sitting on the couch, watching that last movie that we watched together, I can feel the weight of your arm around my shoulders, the soft pressure of your hand tracing shapes on my bicep. Your lips on my forehead, the sound of rain and intense music from the movie in the background.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1591307/ No signal.I'm calling out. Please hear me. They are so loud up there, I can't hear myself talk; and at night, when everything else is asleep and quiet and fine, I can't even hear myself think. Maybe because I am not asleep or quiet or fine. I think the bulbs on my flashing lights must have burned ou.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1584722/ I have never been in love. Never the kind of love that hurts so heartbreaking-ly bad that it feels so good. Never the kind of love that you feel that you could drop everything for that one person. Never the kind of love that you can't help by smile when you look at them because you know you are so d.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1584710/ The power lines criss-crossed across the grey, cloudy sky, cutting it into all of those geometric shapes he learned about in high school. Thunder rolled over the valley, shaking the trees, making the hares and chipmunks scurry for a hiding place. The dusty path sliced through the high dewed .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1582072/ It was something about that white pickup with the broken back window and the empty ammo shells rolling around in the bed. It was something about that part of the river, especially when it was all quiet and flat, except for the fish making waves on the surface. It was something about the way .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1580689/   Isn't it interesting how the smallest things can remind of us the biggest memories? Ones that make our heart hurt like hell, or laugh to ourselves? Or make us feel like we're right back in that memory? Like when I see one of those motorcycles you had, I can feel the wind pulling hard .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1532879/ I  “Monty, get up. Let’s go, this century.”   “It’s Montgomery.” I manage, the sleep still deep in my eyes and my mind. Her hand is already on my arm, pulling me out of my bed, throwing a shirt and a pair of jeans at my head.   “Yeah, whatever.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1493223/ A certain ringing.     In my head.     In my heart.    In my eyes.    In my everything.I think it’s because of what you did.    The flowers.    The love.    The trip.    The .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1461865/   The waves broke hard against the hull of the ship, sea spray blown up by the strong wind into your face as you stood looking out at the plain water. It had been weeks since we had seen land, but yet the green forest on the horizon was less than inviting to me. Miles and miles away from us, an.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1454563/ It's one a.m. and once again, I don't know what I'm doing. I'm thinking, I'm thinking about what to say to you tomorrow when you look at me the way you do, when you say those things, when you act like that. I'm thinking you don't care about me, but you do, everyone knows you do, except for me. You'r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1439702/ I hope you get everything you deserve, the good and the bad. I hope you take chances and meet your soulmate in a crazy way, maybe 'cause you both bought chocolate covered bananas, or 'cause you accidentally walked into the wrong restroom. I hope you get to do all the things you wanted to d.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1390598/ I don't know how I got to need you so much. We let it go and I was okay, I thought. But now you've gone with her and she gets  your kisses and hugs and "I love you's" and she gets to hold your hand and run     her fingers through your hair and sleep on your chest.&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1387772/  The white clouds blended softly into the light blue of the sky at the horizon in the distance. Fog hung heavily around the red dirt, tall cacti rising from it like skyscrapers in an ever-growing city. The house seemed to float on the fog like the castle in the clouds you thought God lived in w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1387489/            Searching “Yeah,” She sighs. “It’s exactly like that.”   His face is in his hands, his fingers spread across his eyes, then across his mouth. He turns his head toward the water, with only his eyes on her, bit.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1379642/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1379641/ Load the rounds into the magazine.Take off the safety. Aim at the enemy. Or what you think is the enemy. They really aren't, of course. The real enemy are the ones who make the war- we're just pawns. The draft picks us up and drops us off over here; just boys in a battlefiel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1366379/ A.   She waded in the river, her fingertips hovering above the reflected surface. When her fingers dipped into the cool water, rings rippled out, colliding with those created from her moving body. She turned around and smiled at me, her hair fallings in front of her eyes, her mouth and eye.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1366376/ 99 days.They say it takes 21 days to develop a habit, or get rid of an old one. So, really, by now- 99 days- I should be over you, right? But guess what? 99 days later and I'm still remembering how you left that cold morning- Army green and frost on the window panes, hardly a hug and a kiss from you.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1352578/ To those who care,  What is it to be brave? Truly, truly brave? Is it always telling the truth, knowing that you’ll get in trouble for your actions?  Is it running into a building on fire to rescue the kid inside? Is it enlisting in the army to go and fight someone for the f.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1346754/ The steam filled the shower, drowning her thoughts, but never completely, yet still a nice change from the memory-erasing whiskey that sat on her counter. He was out with his friends, a typical Friday night. She wondered if He missed her as much as she missed Him. He hardly ever thought about Her an.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1327309/ (1)Brick face, brick eyes, brick mouth, brick body.  (1a)“It’s like talking to a brick wall when I’m with you.”(2)It’s f-----g tiring. (2a)“Can you say something?”(3)Just say something, I miss your voice. (3a)“Don’t be so cold.&rdq.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1325193/ A delusion.   You weren't really, truly, physically there; I only thought I saw you. I guess I could've seen someone that looked like           you, but you've been gone too long for me to remember your features perfectly.  Sandy brown hair. Blue eyes. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1314773/  I stared at you, my chin rested on my hand, a soft smile set on my face; you stared back. This was a weird time, and even though we both knew it, we never addressed it. We addressed the laughs and the kisses, the tears and the fights, the late and cloudy nights on the road, the dusty motel roo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1307477/ The moon slips through the skylight, brightening the dark room, casting shadows on the downcast faces. Only one stares up at the moon, at the stars. She closes her eyes and turns her head to the side. My vision crashes and I see a man’’s body hanging crumpled and broken from the tree bra.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1295407/ The quiet drone of that song reminded me of your voice today. Your fingers drew shapes on my shoulder and we whispered jokes in each others ears. That song came on the radio and you screamed it out. I still smile at the memories. I hit you to make you be quiet but you said I shouldn’t go throu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1291745/   A gun pops, a man falls, bullet to his chest, down into the high grass. Guns pop, more men fall. Wounds, bloody bandages, moans. A dusty, red battlefield lies before them.   A young boy stands alone, mortified, still, around the fallen old men; many of which were less than five year.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1274557/ Mid-October. Slight breeze. Overcast; dull; quiet. Occasional man walking from work  or teenager on their phone. The leaves are falling. Quiet. Quiet. Quiet. Why is there no sound. Operator, Operator-there is no sound! He cannot hear me either.It is.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1274540/ Everyone has a story.Some with more meaning,Some with less; rags to riches or beat up old boxes,Stories of love              loss              care and               compassion.There's alwa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1261451/ The thunder rolls and lightning cracks across the sky, the shadows of trees outside the window falling across the wall. She stares at the falling rain from the windowsill, the sweatshirt pulled down past her fingertips and the blanket wrapped around her body. Thunder shakes the cold house.  She.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1254816/  Through the eyes of a child, all is well,all is right, all is big,all is the right-now, and all is new and curious, but not all is kind.  Through the eyes of an adult,all is suspicious, all is the past, the present, and the future, all is cruel until proven safe, all is a riskbut not al.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1235340/  His trembling fingers touch my face, cold but desperate. I feel his heartbeat drum hard in his chest; I hold the warmth of his body close to mine. Goosebumps ripple along my arms as the wind blows through the open window and he pulls me closer to himself. His lips try and whisper words but th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1217165/ NOTE: MATURE-ISH AUDIENCE http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1217164/  “I’m going to ask you one more time, what happened to him?” the man barks at me as I lay curled around Charlie’s dead and bloody body, tears slurring my voice. I clung to his body as if it could bring him back, reverse the bullets fired through the pistol, reverse the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1217163/  I walk along the shore of the river, the pebbles shifting under my feet. I pick up a small, flat, smooth, grey stone and turn it over in my hands; it’s perfect.  I throw it- One, two, three, four. And it sinks.  Almost broke her record; I’ve never had .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1215446/  Sitting frozen in the corner of the room; frozen by the cold, frozen by the fear, frozen by.... everything. Load the rounds, c**k the gun, unhook the safety; I know what to do, just the fear of failure was paralyzing. All it was was one shot, it shouldn’t be this hard. Too many young bo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1214223/ As she unloaded the washing basin,her hands fumbled on the chipped cup. To her, it meant cold mornings with a warm cup, with his lips on her forehead, him saying, “I love you”, and that he always will. But that turned out to be a lie. To him, it only reminded him of her, someone who he.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1212687/ I wake to the slight knock of something hitting my window, first occurring about every ten seconds, and then more frantically. I rise and rub the sleep out of my eyes, giving them seconds to adjust to the moonlit night. I open the squeaky shutters slowly, careful not to wake Tucker and Jess. I blin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bonniea97/1210205/