http://slow.writerscafe.org/margaretnorway The original writings of author Margaret Norway en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776205994 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 The scent of acrylic and cashmereMy mother sipping coffeeSanding an old church pewDown to the pale bones of woodAnd painting it anew An emerald, enchanted gardenJewel-toned blossoms and stoneLights strung like starsFor music, dancing, drinkingAnd ever.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1403051/ The lilting music carried onA zephyr of brine that wrapped Around us as arms in an embrace.The sound curled into our skinAnd we absorbed the notes until We were full of radiance. I tipped my head back,Closing my eyes to theHeavy, Cheshire moonStrainin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1403048/ Writing Prompt: An Ordinary Guru http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1403046/ TEN“So…” I stuck myhands in the pockets of my jacket and kicked a loose stone, “What did you wantto talk to me about?”“You really needto ask?” Fitch’s eyebrows lifted. He jutted his thumb over his shoulder, “Howdo you know thes.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1403032/ NINE            TheWyldwood looked different this close to dawn. Everything was awash in a softblue and the air was still. There weren’t any animals rustling in the bushes,nor was there any strange music. I concluded I wasn&rsq.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1403030/ EIGHT             I walked around in a daze for the rest of theday. My stomach was unsettled and my gums ached. Fitch caught up with me at theend of the school day and invited me to go out with him and the crew.Apparently Lacey&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1403028/ SEVEN“Look at you,”Leonora had a harsh rasp in her voice and tugged her sunglasses back into herhair and lifted her eyebrows, “don’t you look fancy.” Her eyes were irritatedto a bright red that made my eyes sore all over again.    &nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1402831/ SIXThe sun splashedred behind my eyes. Birds were chattering loudly, nagging me awake. My eyeswere caked with thick sleep that yanked at my eyelids. “Go away,” I groaned tothe morning and rolled over, burying my face in the warm nook of my pillow. Thesmell of lavender and h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1402830/ Adaptation to "The Twelve Dancing Princesses." Contains adult themes such as death and drug abuse. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1386459/           Once, some time ago when Kings andQueens ruled the hills in their castles and lived in finery, there was a Kingwho held a grander rule than all other royals in the land. His riches sparkledfrom the windows of the treasury in the midday.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1383893/ FIVEI recalled thehorrifying stories my Great-Aunt Esther told me as a child to keep me fromgoing into the Wyldwood. She said there were beings that stole children forfun, made young girls pine to death for a love that would never return, andcould blight crops in one night. I remembere.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1383352/ FOURPassing throughthe wall of fog gave me the sense of a tangible shimmer gliding over me. Theair was moist with the scent of rain and evergreen and warmth seeped into myskin. A flute coupled with the drums beat louder now. I opened my eyes, unawareI closed them at all, and my gaze sett.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1383346/ My father loved the ocean. When I was aboy, he would tell me fisherman’s tales late into the evening until dreams offish and mermaids swam through my head. I remember the thickness of his voicewhen he spoke; I imagined it was what the air on a shoreline would feel like. Iwould listen.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1383344/ My name… I fear it isa thing I cannot recall.I must have lost myself some time ago, for I bear no knowledgefrom whence I came, or to where I am going. The details that remain of myselfare quite vague. Though I can tell you that I recall the forest, dappled withthe verdure light .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1383343/ ONEI faced my mirrorwith set shoulders and a grimace. Standing in a tank-top and underwear in theearly morning light, I held up a picture of my older sister, Wilhelmina, and mein my left hand. The photo was of the two of us during our family’s vacation atthe end of the summer. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1381552/ Colette wants nothing more than to be beautiful. She is willing to do anything to get what she wants, no matter the consequences. © 2013 Margaret Norway All Rights Reserved http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1381551/ I dreamed I was trappedIn a house made of windowsBut no doorsA small dog nipped my fingers and feetSharp teeth dragging across my heels Everyone had left, they were talkingIn voices so loud and so quickI didn’t understand until a girlPointed to a sign.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1381085/ I never intended onstaying this way forever.He was chasing me ina forest whereSouls are lost to mykind, forever.Wandering, theirfingers gropingThe bark on the treesthat Contain the spiritsOf my sisters.I intended on hidinguntil he was gone.Until the su.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1381079/ Chapters One and Two http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1381076/ Available at Amazon and Barnes & Noble. (Penname: Aisling Rian) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1381075/ Harsh bass and vocals thrummed off thewalls and pounded in Gabe’s ears. The vibration of sound electrified his veins,setting his nerves on edge. He scanned the smoke filled room through crashingbodies for Dominic, his best friend and the one always dragging him to placeslike this. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1381073/ (April7th) Dear Diary,            Lastnight I had the most incredible experience. I was awoken by a scratching uponmy window, but when I peered out I saw nothing. When I resumed my slumber, thescratching resumed. An odd feeling c.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1381071/ I never should have returned the necklace.  The world was an unrecognizable maze that I navigated bypure instinct. The city’s streets were concrete labyrinths decorated withshining, fast-paced steel and brightly painted signs.  Only one of those streets led to a windi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1381067/ “Whatis your name?” He was tracing patterns in the sand.“Namesaren’t important,” I connected the dots of freckles on my thigh, “Whatmatters is that you are here, not there.” Wegazed beyond the blackened waters. Hiseyes were raised.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1381065/ [A fairytale adaption] http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1381064/ I was ten the lasttime my thoughts were my own. Ten the last time I could think freely. Withoutfear. Without scorn. I did not fear the condemnation of some higher power. Iwas not concerned with the risk of becoming a Thinker. I was free, brazen, rampantwithout fear.   &nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1381060/ Prompt: Look outside, tell what you see. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1298946/ Thereis a woman in apartment 4.Ina one bedroom studio with Crackinggreen laminate in the kitchenRustin the sink,Andsmells of mothballs and degeneration.   Herwalls are lined with pictures Ofplaces she’s never beenOfpeople she’.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1298935/ Theman lives in the brick historical building.Anunmentioned structure,Witha crumbling façade and slumped balcony.Thewindows never open, Andlead is a twinge in the air.   Theonce glorious staircase is soft with mold,Andthe banister le.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1298934/ Thereare some days, Whenthe words won’t come.   Theydry up inside. Crackling, crumblingFlowerpetals that were never Hungupside down,  Orpressed between the yellowing pagesOfa decade’s old novel. &n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1298932/ Thereis a wall being built Insidemyself.Brick,ByBrick,  ByBrick.  Themortar is that of the strongest kind.Mixedwith words I want to say,Craveto say.Crushedinto powder and stirred around,Andaround, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/margaretnorway/1298931/