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		<title>Adie Holler | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/eddy%20holleran</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Adie Holler</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>I found out on the stoop... from the Fudinkle's.</title>
			<description>	I haven't been home in over eight years. The thought makes my heart race and my knees quake. I walked out after my father decided he wasn't going to pay for art school anymore. &quot;Why don't you go to a real f*****g college? Study business or something. Instead of splattering paint on canvas.&quot; I could..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/eddy-holleran/656755/</link>
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			<title>Art &amp; Mae</title>
			<description>He woke up earlier than usual one morning. He pulls himselffrom the couch, finds his slippers and makes his way into the kitchen. It&amp;rsquo;s howhe left it the evening before. There are dishes in the sink, pans on thestovetop and coffee still in his cup. He reaches for the teakettle on the..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/eddy-holleran/645353/</link>
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			<title>Barney Told Me a Secret Once: Chickens are Jewish</title>
			<description>the big purple whohas bundles of hugsfor everyonetold me a secret oncewhen he gave me a hughe whispered in my earthe ones who cluckthe ones with much larger noses than mostare best when unburnt</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/eddy-holleran/628690/</link>
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			<title>Last Letter For You.</title>
			<description>Prose poetry.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/eddy-holleran/628681/</link>
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			<title>9 Lines for Her</title>
			<description>Your loveis like a shot of whiskey, only burns for a few minutes but feels great after.&amp;nbsp;	I&amp;rsquo;vebeen alone,	hidingunder hoarded blankets, hoping it'll change like the seasons soon.&amp;nbsp;Mycigarettes,&amp;nbsp;filtered.&amp;nbsp;	Bringing luck with just one strike.Yourmouth, unfil..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/eddy-holleran/611779/</link>
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			<title>Realizing</title>
			<description>The world of poetry makesme sad&amp;hellip;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Wonderingwhat could work with these words.Talking talking, telling, and terribly tired of these things.Making moves, melodies andmotion.&amp;nbsp;Wondering what would work..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/eddy-holleran/611778/</link>
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			<title>The Paths</title>
			<description>&quot;The path up and down is one and the same.&quot; -Heraclitus</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/eddy-holleran/605574/</link>
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			<title>Cigarettes and Sitting.</title>
			<description>Flash fiction.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/eddy-holleran/605572/</link>
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			<title>...in a list.</title>
			<description>Quick and fun.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/eddy-holleran/605569/</link>
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			<title>Shorter Now</title>
			<description>The days seem shorter now.The sun leaves by 6 and joins us at 7.It stretches over Mt. Mansfield, slowly creeps onto Burlington and makes it rest in Plattsburgh.Before he's at leisure, it must make its mark. The sky will turn different shades of&amp;nbsp;Blue,&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nb..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/eddy-holleran/605567/</link>
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			<title>The Digumton's Farm</title>
			<description>She sits in her small art studio, alone. Her canvas is blank. Her hands are doing it again. Her hands are in control, again...Her hands are old and worn now, they've seen better times.They look like a working woman been using them for years. She works and owns afarm in Virginia, with her six son..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/eddy-holleran/605564/</link>
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