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		<title>Michael J. Richards | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writeruntildeath</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Michael J. Richards</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>The Sleeping Ashes</title>
			<description>She stood outsidethe walls, letting the light and heat flicker off her face. As far as she knew,she was the only one who had escaped, and the screams she heard, whetherrepeated imaginations or reality testified to that. It seemed ironic she wasthe one alive, considering the royalty w..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/562553/</link>
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			<title>The Shadow's Captive</title>
			<description>The cell was likeall others: cold and dark. He wasn&amp;rsquo;t afraid, just tired. Captive here was morewearing than it had been anywhere else. With clacks echoing down the hall, hestood up, coming to attention at the front of his cell. The Shadow neared, hismisleading pastel-colored cl..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/562552/</link>
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			<title>First Thoughts</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; She&amp;rsquo;skind of pretty, he thought, but Iwouldn&amp;rsquo;t really want to meet her. She doesn&amp;rsquo;t seem like a girl that would likeme.I don&amp;rsquo;t know that he&amp;rsquo;s someone I would meetor talk to, she thoug..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/562551/</link>
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			<title>The Thief's Prophecy</title>
			<description>He hadn't lived asa thief his whole life. But then again, he was young enough when he went out onthe street that he could not remember a life he didn't steal in. His strangeability to foretell events he quickly learned to keep quiet. This warning wastoo strong; to foreboding to ignor..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/562550/</link>
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			<title>Forgotten Spirit</title>
			<description>Why me?she wondered, flitting about. Why me? Why'd they forget me? Why?The expanse was lonely now, the white normally so inviting was icy andforbidding. They had all left at the first hind of danger. Every last one ofthem was gone but her.They left me.Why'd they leave me? she c..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/562549/</link>
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			<title>Silent Game</title>
			<description>This magic wasabsolutely silent, a complete contrast to the raucous ceremonies of Medahir.The diagrams weredrawn in the air: chalk scratched and squeaked. The incantations were thoughtin the mind, perhaps mouthed for those who needed more concentration. Her concentrationwas o..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/562548/</link>
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			<title>The Dragon's Healer</title>
			<description>The once brilliantcreature lay before him in a pool of black blood, a stark contrast against thesilver scales. How strange he thought at first, before composing himselfto repair the injury.The magic named aprice: a healing this extensive would require a great sacrifice, but he co..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/562547/</link>
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			<title>Next Shard</title>
			<description>In the night shehadn't slept, feeling constantly as if something was missing. Instead shewatched the stars, the shards of light cutting the fabric of the sky.One, two,three, four, she counted. Five, six, seven, eight... The sensewas gradually fading away, the distraction helping...</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/562546/</link>
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			<title>The Laughing Spirit</title>
			<description>Its voice dancedaround her, flitting back and forth. You can&amp;rsquo;t catch me, you can&amp;rsquo;t catchme. Frustration had not hit her yet, and she was still amused by thesimple innocence of the spirit. You can&amp;rsquo;t catch me, you can&amp;rsquo;t catch me!&amp;ldquo;Come now,&amp;rdquo; sheca..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/562545/</link>
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			<title>The Final Silence</title>
			<description>He breathed in.And out. And in. And out. Bright red spilled from his side steadily. He lookeddown at it briefly and then shut his eyes, wishing it was not his. The battlecontinued around him: swords clanged above his head. Being left for dead wasnot as bad as it seemed. Every thing s..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/562544/</link>
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			<title>Teacher of Silence</title>
			<description>It was required totake Silence before he could graduate. A class that no one talked about and noone mentioned. People just took it and moved on. It made him curious, as everysingle other class was talked about with great fervor. The students weretalking energetically as usual bef..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/562542/</link>
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			<title>The Dreamer of the Snake</title>
			<description>Falling asleep waseasy. Staying asleep was easy. Waking up was harder. He was in her dream, asnake like the true person he was. The copper scales were the exact color ofhis hair, each glistening in the light. His ebony eyes pierced her to the core,reminding her of every little thing...</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/562541/</link>
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			<title>Final Spark</title>
			<description>It took so muchout of him to cast that last spell. Defending the city to his last breath wassomething he had pledged to do, but he hadn&amp;rsquo;t expected it to be so soon. Theinvaders were legends of a far away land when he had signed onto the EbonyCorps, the city&amp;rsquo;s magic guards..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/562539/</link>
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			<title>Emerald Wings</title>
			<description>The girl sat nearhim, laying her head against his side, feeling his uneasy breath rise and fall.The fight was barely over. She was uninjured, but his left wing was torn. Hisbeautiful emerald wings that brought them both so high were ripped to nearlyshreds, but there was nothing that ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/562537/</link>
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			<title>Introduction</title>
			<description>These are what I call &quot;snapshots.&quot; Using a random book title generator,I create either a very short story or a &quot;snapshot&quot; of what a storycould be. From &quot;Next Shard&quot; down, I decided to challenge myself furtherby limiting myself to one 4x6 notecard. I have a stack of at least 100notecards whic..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/562536/</link>
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			<title>Snapshots</title>
			<description></description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/562534/</link>
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			<title>Silence</title>
			<description>This is what happens when you are bored in class.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/550351/</link>
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			<title>Echoes</title>
			<description>With silence that echoesand quiet that rings,with sadness and longingsand those sorts of things,comes pond'rings andwond'rings andthoughts in my ear;But only if I sit still andlisten, and hear.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/542842/</link>
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			<title>Shoulda Coulda Wouda</title>
			<description>Not based on a true story.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/542354/</link>
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			<title>Star Trek: The Beginning</title>
			<description>I must have enjoyed the movie if it inspired a poem...</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/542350/</link>
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			<title>Ebony and Ivory</title>
			<description>Black and whiteMy fingers hover over the keysAn unseen forceStops them from breaking the reticence&amp;nbsp;And then I begin&amp;nbsp;They waltz on the ebonyFoxtrot on the ivoryTango on the sharpsSwing on the flatsMy fingers have a life of their ownI love the feelingTo let my mind..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/542343/</link>
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			<title>To Time</title>
			<description>Time has slowedNearly coming to a stopThe teacher dronesOn and onOn and onThe clock never movesI wait and waitWait and waitFor it to moveFor class to be overTo get on with my dayAnd get on with my life&amp;nbsp;Time is speeding byQuicker th..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/541861/</link>
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			<title>Softly Snowing</title>
			<description>Snow falls gently--oh, so softly, onblood upon a green-ed ground.Hiding shades of dark'ning sorrow--Making not a single sound.The pieces scattered on the grass--Like peddler's o'er turned cart--All dead and broken--none still moving;All lack a beating heart.One la..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/writeruntildeath/541859/</link>
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