http://slow.writerscafe.org/SusieRobertson The original writings of author Susie en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776013755 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 The past few days have been very strange, like squinting in the morning sun but not being able to fully come to. I have spent countless hours making sense of the biggest mistake of my life: my abusive, failed marriage.I came from a system. A home where men led. A church where women were not allowed .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1450280/ Four thousand dollars pops up on Mon's internet banking screen. The message next to it reads, "More to come. I'm getting a huge compensation. See you tonight. Love, Felix."That is four thousand more than Mon&nbsp;knows what to do with. A homeless nobody would save it for food. Taylor would likely ge.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1437771/ Sitting across from Felix in the shaded bakery window, Mon notes his old shirts are much tighter. His physique has grown in size since last year and it keeps surprising her. She wonders briefly who has "grown up" more.Still, he looks nice, in normal clothes. The dull, poorly blended colours of his u.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1437446/ "So you kind of&nbsp;deferred here," Taylor confirms and processes. She sizes up Tiff and decides that if first impressions are anything to go on, this girl knows how to rock those curves and seems too interested in "doing s**t" to finish school. "So is this a career to you?"...The substance, lookin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1426512/ I know there are mistakes in this, but could you please let me know what you think of the content???? <3 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1425918/ "Taylor!" Boyd exclaims from the garage as he hears the bells jingling&nbsp;against the&nbsp;front door.Taylor barely shuts it behind her before he points at her from the darkness beyond the sunroom-garage entrance."Makeup is ready for you, babe. I'll get you to meet Dale when he arrives."Taylor wav.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1425896/ She hussles out of the cubicle looking more fabulous than she expects to."You look cute!" a voice insists as she slips through girls' toilets out into the corridor.She looks down at her denim jumpsuit over her black stockings, "Thanks." Jumpsuits are wonderful for wash-day. She can tumble wash all i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1425424/ Her phone, in her bag, vibrates against her shoulder blade. Before she thinks who might be calling, it reminds her she must find somewhere to charge it today.She stops barely-walking, and relaxes her shoulder enough to let the bag&nbsp;drop into her palm. She rummages, glances at the screen and answ.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1424701/ Mr Lloyd enters the classroom behind her and flicks the light switch. He exclaims her name, "Early again!"The paths between sprawled, unevenly placed desks&nbsp;are lit&nbsp;before her. She cannot help but wonder if she was the only student driven mad by this unstructured classroom. She acknowledges.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1422003/ Verse 1:Her friends all think she&rsquo;s crazed for advocating suicideMarching to her grave many decades before her timeGracefully, she leans on her spadeWipes her face cleanThe one worse thing than any lossIs, forfeitingSo, take her with her passionateFaith in the impossibleHer a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1416988/ Our allies might verbalise a different opinion than ours, but their opinions&nbsp;are subject to&nbsp;our consent.Our allies have the incredible ability to suggest we change our diet without applying ANY pressure. They are also willing to hear our reasons for being where we are in our journey and re.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1416983/ Firstly, you should know this about me: I don't mind what you do or don't eat.Sure, I have my own opinions that evolve and change over time. We all do!&nbsp;I might even share&nbsp;my views&nbsp;with you! But we are ALL entitled to our own individual opinions.You see, I whole-heartedly believe that .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1416977/ There are unavoidable hidden insults,&nbsp;assumptions&nbsp;and misunderstandings in so much of what we are told. Your diet is radical.""I wouldn't want to sacrifice my social life.""You wouldn't want to date me, then.""Be careful."The list goes on.If I had a dollar for every time I was asked the "p.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1416971/ She scrunches her hands into a fist and shoves them into her eyelids. Even behind her knuckles, the sunlight reflecting off the windscreen flashes like stars.The blue sleeping bag cocoons her up to her mouth. Inside feels sticky with sweat. But outside, melting ice begins to&nbsp;trickle&nbsp;down t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1413669/ So often what we learn the hard way turns out to be a perfect contradiction of what society taught us.You can fill in the gaps with "I was betrayed." http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1406385/ Iran http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1406007/ What if sexism, in everyday life, worked the other way. Women had the upper hand? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1401511/ "You cheated?" I said, as if coming up for air. My voice was low, automatic&nbsp;and unrecognisable. I felt detached from it, as if listening to a recorded conversation."Yes," Cris replied. The simplicity of that word did not do it's several meanings justice.It left me feeling terribly unsatisfied.T.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1398830/ Cris's and my wedding day was the best day of my life.Virgin sex was like... virgin sex.Day one was... bliss.And day two was...I sat on the gorgeous, bold, floral quilt cover, a wedding gift from Abigail, simply admiring the foreign details of this room. Lubricant and contraceptive pills strategical.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1397131/ Earlier I had jogged seven kilometres in the rain, strategically finishing up at the grocery store. When I arrived home, I dried and cooked pizza for Cris while&nbsp;nibbling on some ingredients. But since three-thirty I had been stranded in the bedroom with a library book, anticipating Cris's arriv.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1388918/ It was 1.4 kilometres from Naracoorte&rsquo;s main street to theunit. I walked slowly, with a chemist bag containing valerian supplements toaid sleeping tucked under my arm.One. Step. At. A. Time. This was all I could manage.I hadn&rsquo;t realised &ldquo;Wonderwoman&rdquo; was home from.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1388526/ Today was&nbsp;THAT day.I dressed for Church. I looked at my reflection. I dressed again. Clothes slowly formed a second carpet over my bedroom floor. The frantic movement caused a flush. I slid open the window. The screeching only added to my stress but a relieving breeze followed. I faced it, fill.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1372492/ Call it a woman's intuition or what you will, deep down I already knew. Like Keith&nbsp;at his funeral,&nbsp;people could have a strong presence. The kiss thief&nbsp;wedged between us invaded my space. I stepped backward to make room."Zena Lawson," His eyes conveyed dread, "Do you know her?"Zena was.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1372289/ Walking from the front pews to the hearse&nbsp;gave us a&nbsp;truer idea of how many had shown for the occasion. That was, A LOT.&nbsp;We spilled out of the exit like a knocked over jar of black jellybeans.I gulped a deep lungful of fresh air as if I had spent several minutes underwater. My limbs ca.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1372087/ A private body viewing, a stressful black attire shop and nine days later the farmhouse was all a hustle again. I was tired of functioning around so many people, but today would mark the end of this phase. Lucy and her husband would return to the city tonight, Cris to his father's, and the widow who.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1371939/ Home.I resented the fact that I'd&nbsp;driven. The fifteen minutes alone in the car with Cris faking appreciation for his support was intense. For the first time ever I wished he had his license. Why did I have to drive, today of all days?He lead me up the front doorsteps of the farmhouse and search.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1371205/ To those sixteen weight loss participants, I feel horribly sorry. "You are a contender! You can do it! Bring on the best body of your life." My own motivating words of last year haunt me in more than one way. First they make me manipulate my weight in any direction I please. Secondly, they make me a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1369460/ I forged reasons to run that were acceptable. Like to use the energy I paid for or tone. But deep down I knew these were lies, part of an excuse my subconscious self-protection had carefully constructed to;a) escape Cris's rage, andb) return home as fast as possible, prepared to find him in a blood .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1365989/ Where the hell was he?Planning&nbsp;to&nbsp;appear inconspicuous and preoccupied when Cris arrived home, I had already been hiding out in the bedroom for an hour. As nervous as I was bored, I had only read a single page of my library book on marathoners when I finally heard the front door unlock and.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1360233/ "News update from around the world, 22nd June."I tuned in to The Morning Show while doing a few simple floor exercises and let it talk at me. It was too cold to bother jogging today."An estimated ten thousand people have been evacuated from Calgary, Canada as a result of flooding."Workout over. I st.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1359489/ Barely home from their honeymoon, Lucy and her new husband opened the screen door at Grandma's hollered consent, and stepped into the morbid crowd. She looked fabulous, not that anyone cared. A single tear collected at the corner of her eye at the sight of us."Thank you for coming," Dad made the fir.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1358265/ Sometimes I wish I were an animal. Eating, playing, sleeping, multiplying, fighting, hunting. Indulging without the experience being spoiled by wondering whether they are worthy. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1357783/ Sometimes I wish I were born&nbsp;an animal. Eating, playing, sleeping, multiplying, fighting, hunting. Indulging without the experience being spoiled by wondering whether they are worthy. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1357780/ If you want to be resented, succeedIf you want to be mistreated, be politeIf you want to be despised, smileIf you want to be deceived,&nbsp; be loyalIf you want to be rejected, accept yourselfIf you want to be misunderstood, desireIf you want to die, loveBut if you want to be fre.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1357722/ A tribute to all those fighting an eating disorder http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1355725/ "So. It was about nine or ten in the evening on the 14th July. Cristyn carried you into the kitchen by and arm around your waist. You said, kindly, 'Please stop'. When you realised what his plan for you was you tried to wrestle. But he's over six foot and too strong. He changed his grip to your .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1355721/ Please let me know how I can improve this chapter. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1355624/ I would love some feedback on this section of writing. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1354870/ I lead my&nbsp;parents up the steep,&nbsp;narrow Catholic church steps to the balcony, where we could see out over the congregation. Even up here we were pushing our luck to&nbsp;get a seat, so&nbsp;we beelined between pews to the opposite side, where we could overlook the service.&nbsp;&nbsp;The bo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1354402/ Squeezed between Cris and Alissa, I convinced myself comfortable. Whatever boundaries Cris and I conquered in&nbsp;any&nbsp;former delusional&nbsp;imaginings did not interfere with our friendship in reality. Likewise, my harboured dread and dislike&nbsp;for Alissa did not&nbsp;interfere with ours. N.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1338775/ As soon as appropriate, I left my parents at the table, stacked our dishes in the dishwasher and scurried to my bedroom. I often sought serenity at the end of the day to absorb myself in the fantasy world of novels, especially now Lucy was&nbsp;not home to play canister with.&nbsp;But tonight, as se.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1338227/ I had only been needed at work for two hours this morning, so I arrived home at eight-thirty, stripped my smelly jeans, flopped onto my bed and was catching up on some much-needed&nbsp;sleep within minutes.Dad was sitting at the head of the table, as he always did on the weekends for lunch, when I f.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1337639/ The loss of Cris by separation was difficult to grieve. I wished it was socially acceptable for me to wear a black dress, buy expensive flowers and give a speech to all our friends about how sad the loss was; say the things to his coffin that we never said to his face, or that he refused to hear. An.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1335764/ We were not speaking or watching television.&nbsp;He sat on one end of the couch with his legs reclined, and I crossed mine at the ankles on his pelvis.&nbsp;We mutually&nbsp;understood that conversation, right now, would be forced and pointless. Cris was barely able to string a sentence together, s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1334359/ Four-thirty. I stirred under the quilt as Cris made a blind scurry for his phone to switch the alarm off. The blue light of it's screen cast a mythical hazy tint across my eyelids, making me squint and roll away from it, yet I had not come to.The sound stopped, abruptly, and I felt Cris leaning over.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1333865/ When I was twelve there was a girl who caught the sameschool bus as me. She was everything I wasn&rsquo;t&rsquo;: tall with a worshipable concave stomach andlong, brunette ringlets that trailed the length of her spine.I was infatuated.And I hated it. I hated girls&rsquo; fitness change-rooms.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1331988/ Mum says I&rsquo;m just tired and need to rest.Dad says I&rsquo;m just bored and need a job.Men say I&rsquo;m just lonely and need a relationship.Women say I&rsquo;m just weak and need a steak.My friends say I&rsquo;m just rude and need a social life.My ex says I&rsquo;m just difficult.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1331976/ My hands raised with scratches. But they were not quite bad enough to complain about, unfortunately.Year after year, whoever was home was roped into this brutal job. It sounded so simple, hay carting, but it was the closest thing to hard labour we Reece's would ever experience.Thankfully, I had been.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1329552/ I had done a few pages of study and, honestly, the small butconcentrated effort had exhausted me. I was daydreaming, sprawled across thesingle bed of Lucy&rsquo;s spare room, staring at the pattern in the skirting boardand marvelling at the life of my wonderful housemate.She lived in a com.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1328872/ My mother once told me about the boyfriends she had before marrying Dad. She would have implied there were too many, though there were only a handful. She knew Dad was the one she would marry. She said that her first serious boyfriend, toward the end of senior school, talked about growing up and hav.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SusieRobertson/1325270/