http://slow.writerscafe.org/HannahBanana The original writings of author OfficiallyHannahQ! en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776235608 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 A story about a man trying to get back to the woman he loves http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HannahBanana/2017067/ Just a blog-styled journal entry about my life and daily ponderings pertaining to the end of four years in the safe haven of high school. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HannahBanana/1440722/ There are those days when the rain hardly touches our heads and leaves our souls longing. Moments when there is nothing holding us down but our own disbelief in humanity. That is today.Day X. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HannahBanana/1416240/ Drama.It is practically what adolescence thrives upon. I hate it.I hate drama that is.I hate many things and possibly people. But I could never admit such things to myself before all this happened.I was raised to love. To forgive. To forget. So why!? Can anyone tell me why I get so angry?You probabl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HannahBanana/1372895/ Something about how April showers bring May flowers Somewhere beyond me and somewhere near you Out there and here all around us There is really no place anyone can go http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HannahBanana/1366387/ Chapter One“Cara!"The booming male voice rang through the quiet streetas night fell over the city of Milan.“Cara!”He continued to scream into the night. Frustration inevery syllable. Pain in every cry. But the small, shapely figure nearly at theend of the road kep.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HannahBanana/1365833/ PrologueI never used to believe in running away from my problems. Something about being courageous like my mother taught me growing up. But courage is a lie. At least on some level. It cannot always exist.Because sometimes you have to run and there is no other option... because when you don't things.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HannahBanana/1365821/ I never used to believe in running away from my problems. Something about being courageous like my mother taught me growing up. But courage is a lie. Sometimes you have to run,because when you don’t http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HannahBanana/1365817/ Sitting there on the side of the road. I am wondering what I have done? I am trying to figure out how this all happened. How I allowed myself to break so much that I have reached the point of no return. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HannahBanana/1354039/ I have a problem. And it makes me shake with fury so I have to say something. Do something. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HannahBanana/1353560/ Step away from the mirror for a moment and see that your reflection is indeed not yours but mine. These things are spoken to me by a man who claims to be my father. But I don't remember him. Or anything he has ever done. Am I trapped in a life that no longer belongs to me or is this a tragic li.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HannahBanana/1350871/ It is scary to let people see my deepest thoughts and weakness when I'm most vulnerable. But sometimes writing should be about more than made-up stories. Sometimes it should be about the truth. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HannahBanana/1343690/ Monologue about http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HannahBanana/1343434/ A small poem about the aftermath of war. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HannahBanana/1343137/