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		<title>Iris | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/IrisHunter</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Iris</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>Prologue</title>
			<description>PrologueI&amp;rsquo;d hopedthey wouldn&amp;rsquo;t come. They would, eventually, of course, but until then I wasdetermined to make the most of my time.It was the day of my fifteenth birthday. Much was destined tohappen if I lived. It&amp;rsquo;s a new world out there. More dangerous. Lethal. O..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/IrisHunter/1775396/</link>
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			<title>A Conversation Between Weasel and Bookworm</title>
			<description>This story is dedicated to Teresa Dale, a kind and passionate friend.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/IrisHunter/1599849/</link>
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			<title>A Desperate Plea</title>
			<description>This story is dedicated to Aapee.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/IrisHunter/1592328/</link>
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			<title>A Conversation between Ferret and Bookworm</title>
			<description>This one's for people who've read Harry Potter or seen the movie. You won't understand it otherwise. </description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/IrisHunter/1581280/</link>
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			<title>Song of a Martyr</title>
			<description>O survivors do not grieve And stay firmIn what you believeFor we may have left you, Withoutgoodbyes and Tearypartings, true, But this is notfarewell my friend, &amp;nbsp;For our journey did not yet end, We may have passed away Withshattered dreams and broken p..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/IrisHunter/1574790/</link>
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			<title>Chapter 2</title>
			<description>He was a short, stout little man. Completely different from the tall, burly male I was expecting. He had short cropped red hair that dotted his otherwise bald head. Seeing him reminded me of that nursery rhyme: I'm a little teapot, short and stout. And &amp;nbsp;he did look like a teapot. He was rather ..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/IrisHunter/1565023/</link>
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			<title>Chapter 1</title>
			<description>They came at dinnertime. That used to be my favorite time of the day. Not anymore.The car screeched to a halt next to our garage. Mom started at the noise. She peeked out from the window and went pale. Deathly white. Dad stopped eating, his hand white-knuckled around the fork. The utensil bent to a ..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/IrisHunter/1560560/</link>
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			<title>Collected</title>
			<description>The world as we know it is gone. In its place is a savage cruel world thirsty for human blood. They tried to fight it yet failed. But this year Maria's batch has been chosen. Dare they hope?</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/IrisHunter/1557871/</link>
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