http://slow.writerscafe.org/gwitkus The original writings of author Gabalicious! en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776010894 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15             Kade loosened his tie. Walking in the shimmer that was created by the suns reflection off the skyscrapers behind him, he headed towards a small grouping of trees in the park. He craned his neck and looked into the cloudless sky, already at nine in the m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/gwitkus/217032/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/gwitkus/217031/ A short from my Past http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/gwitkus/214585/ Another short from my past http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/gwitkus/214580/                My Dad pulled off of the main road in the town and on to our street. I immediately felt a nervous tickle in my stomach when I saw Dave’s station wagon out in front of our house. Jessie saw the same thi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/gwitkus/214533/               Sunday was always a dicey day for dinner. My Mom made something that they liked to call kitchen ala Johnson. Which meant that they took all of the leftovers from the weeks dinners and mixed them together and served .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/gwitkus/209500/ Here's a small snapshot of My youth. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/gwitkus/209255/             It takes only about twenty minutes to get to the baseball field that we practiced at. Winding through the neighborhood full of thick trees with heavy branches filled with leaves large enough to cover your face it was easy to take your time and turn twen.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/gwitkus/209215/          I kicked a lava rock from Mrs.Kopecki’s yard along the sidewalk in front of me. Beau and I spent hours, when we were younger, throwing the rocks into the sewer drain on the corner of our street. We would try to figure out which volcano the rocks came from.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/gwitkus/208929/             Adrenaline coursed through my veins. My brother was already out of the yard, running down the middle of the street screaming. I followed him, images of the old wrinkled woman in the box shot through my mind. I was able to see the woman from on top of .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/gwitkus/208924/             His left foot was slightly turned away from the plate. I took two steps off of the third bag and looked over the infield. Mike Salazar, my nemesis stood on first and Tommy Prezminski, was leading off second. Returning my attention to home plate, I w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/gwitkus/208917/ A story about two brothers and one final summer. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/gwitkus/208912/