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		<title>D.L | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/deedee3113</link>
		<description>The original writings of author D.L</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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			<title>Chapter 2: I Stole His Coat</title>
			<description>Ican start with what I&amp;rsquo;m positive came first. I was born on May 5th,1934, five months after my parents&amp;rsquo; wedding. Their Catholic families attendedchurch together. Luckily for good old Mum and Dad, no one was a professedmathematician.&amp;nbsp;I imagin..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deedee3113/1509816/</link>
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			<title>Chapter 1: Murderers Look Like Grandmothers</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I&amp;rsquo;vebeen sitting on this jailhouse bed for two hours, tracing the veins in mywrinkled hands and tapping my foot as if something will come of it. The onlydisruption to my impatient fidgetings has been the woman they brought in earlier.Sh..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deedee3113/1490490/</link>
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			<title>The Exception</title>
			<description></description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deedee3113/1490489/</link>
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			<title>When Death Comes Riding By</title>
			<description>inspired by Dylan Thomas's &quot;Do Not Go Gently Into That Good Night&quot;</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deedee3113/1410075/</link>
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			<title>Last Summer</title>
			<description>First attempt at a haiku. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deedee3113/1407915/</link>
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			<title>Cynic's View on Love</title>
			<description>written in a different perspective for a different perspective</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deedee3113/1407451/</link>
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			<title>Children of Lost Passion</title>
			<description>Children of Lost Passion &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We&amp;rsquo;re mindlessly smartWe always hit the bullseye But we always miss our markWe never felt the choice to flyWe just march, marching in the dark&amp;nbsp;We&amp;rsquo;re living for the hell of itWe&amp;rsquo..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deedee3113/1407309/</link>
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