http://slow.writerscafe.org/sugareerain The original writings of author Carissa D en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776134834 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 They moved in during her seventh month of pregnancy. It wasthe height of humid summer and the hours she spent maneuvering around her heavybelly cleaning the place seemed endless. She did it alone and full ofresentment. It was a run down part of the city a few ho.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sugareerain/1673567/ she swallows her cheap beerpale and thin, her lips embraceher daily escapeshe sits unknown of her abilityshe sits and thinks ofher daughter her sonher married loverher fosterher diseaseshe is achingshe hopes that the uncomfortablelump in her chest is cancereating herso she won�.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sugareerain/1348194/ It started to rain tonight. Hasn’t in weeks and I feel guilty- I haven’t been good to my tomato plants. And in my driveway I watch the rain appear in the street light, heavy -unnoticed. I stand there, momentsthinking of you and your kidsof your wife of .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sugareerain/1348192/ I lay in bed tonighta thick book in hand,today�'s short walkoccupies a deep part of my thoughts.There in an alley,my father stepsbehind me.and above the sky simmering yogurt orange –pink.it is silent, still and cold,a drifting song from a churchstreets away follows us down.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sugareerain/1294241/ In this coldness and wind,a crease of moon ahead and I’mhere, in this back dark ally. I’m thinking of you-and of us.Thousand miles apart,something new to this-this seriousness and this sudden change. &nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sugareerain/1294237/ she swallows her cheap beer pale and thin, her lips embrace her daily escape she sits unknown of her ability she sits and thinks of her daughter her son her married lover her foster her disease she is aching she hopes that the uncomfortable lump in her chest is cancer eating her so she won't have .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sugareerain/1266999/ Here we are, a hike to a distant lake. Above the sky is indifferent and calling in the distance- we hear crashing between these great peaks. You spot strawberry blossoms. And point to small naïve, white flowers. And I know they are powerful as I stand near this lake’s ancient rim.. A.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sugareerain/1266996/ The fan's rotating beats hang with my attention, here I am thoughts wrapped around you. These empty beer bottles and my slight haziness taking blame for this ache- and my numb thoughts. Outside it’s raining and a cool breeze carries aromas of a distant farm against my bareness, keeping .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sugareerain/1266994/ this morning as I stood and waited by your window scanned your yard listened to the fierce wind and watched the grey cold lift the new snow over the lake the stark trees-and my feelings. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sugareerain/1266992/ you are a stranger- and we stand deep in this river in nature’s silence, our fly rods at work. an old train bed- following each curve, each long stretch of river, has led us and I’ve followed. The water here is slower. Dark birds skim the still surface and we scan - for rising fish. B.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sugareerain/1266991/ I lay in bed tonighta thick book in hand,today's short walkoccupies a deep part of my thoughts.There in an alley,my father stepsbehind meand above the sky issimmering yogurt orange �" pink.it is silent, still and cold,a drifting song from a churchstreets away follows us down thisage.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sugareerain/1266528/ Driving- hours,my mother calls with news,Tiffany-has a tumor,has been put to sleep.I am passenger,and you point out the new moon,a portion, we both take a silentlong stare.Seldom, but sometimes yousay words of love.I'm lonely, how can you love me? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sugareerain/1266527/ It is always before dawn,before the silkyfrost leaveshis window,before the sun drapes his lawnin a clear light.It's always in the dusty morning,when lines fade into thebackdrop of his room.When things can only be asapparent as the morning will allow.This is when he takes her ande.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sugareerain/1266518/ And my aching, In bed the clicking heaterand the silentdark and deepnight slow static on the lakeand your heavy breathing-from the other room. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sugareerain/1266516/