http://slow.writerscafe.org/Hannah%20Paige The original writings of author Hannah Paige en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776048278 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Everything is closed on Christmas. My shoes make muffled, percussive sounds on the pavement. I don't know where I'm going. I try not to step on the cracks.I end up at this old theater that only plays one movie. I think maybe this is where all the people are, but I don't go inside.It's been a few Chr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1698144/ Do you remember Oregon?the treesand Alison Kraussand dried mangoand the black and white filmand the treesThe only time we drove in the darkwas the night you told meabout your momwe made it all the wayto Long Beach that nightLeaving SeattleI had this feelingthat I'd never been anywherelike this befor.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1638511/ Mary Ellis-FischerMary Ellis-Fischerwas not particularly strong.  She was not particularly smart, nor was sheespecially funny. She liked to think of herself as a romantic, though she hadno practical experience with romance.  She had a high school d.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1594783/ IanFischerWhere could she be? He had to wonder if she’d left.  He couldn’t imagine that shewould just go, but then again… He shook the thought out of his head. “Matilda?” he said through a quiet frown.  There w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1594782/ MatildaBlankIt waseleven o’clock on Christmas Eve and young Matilda Blank wanted nothing morethan to get away.  Frost grew on the busstop sign above her.  She thought sheshouldn’t be waiting much longer. Vaguely festive str.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1594781/ LeoStanskyFor LeoStansky, things had never been quite so unclear.  He was used to an itinerary, a plan. Never before had he experienced this sort of aimless day.  He was inclined to think such phenomena awaste of perfectly valuable and eve.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1594780/ A series of short stories focusing on different characters from the same town, whose lives intersect. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1594779/ stream of consciousness prose poetry http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1590120/ She was the sort of girl who was always in lovealways preoccupied with this boy or thatalways in love with a thing or a place enamored of trees, mountains, overalls, the color greenshe captioned every picture with a soliloquy about joy or sadness or sunshine or birdseverything to her could.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1589832/ I've been revisiting a lot of things lately. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1589824/ after two days of intensive room-cleaning, I was left feeling mysteriously raw and disturbed http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1589811/ I saw you the other day in a basement lined with smokeIt was the first time in a yearand I could barely even lookWe haven't spoken since last fallbut I heard you're doing wellAnd maybe it's not fair to saybut babe I'm proud as hell.And I don't miss you but I might at well.And I don't love you b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1589794/ 1. I take people for granted2. I internalize everything3. I was never an "empathetic crier"4. I only express surface emotions5. I'm afraid to leave my comfort zone6. I feel numb, even when nothing is wrong7. I have ambition but lack motivation8. Things bother me that shouldn't 9. I expect to lo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1563652/ An excerpt from that infamous novel of mine http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1292477/ This was where it all began.  She knew it now, standing here, wherethey had stood.  The air was adistant sort of warm, and she could feel August coming.  She looked to the sky and realized dawnwould be here soon.  This was herfinal night, the last place she’d ever .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1171506/ I've always thought the circus was a pretty solid metaphor for life so. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1151620/ A piece from a series of character studies I'm doing for my school newspaper. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1150561/ Another in the series of pieces I'm doing for the school paper. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1119039/ Part of a series of character studies I'm doing for my school newspaper; Editor's Choice Award at Teenink.com http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1048103/ The ocean was blue that day, butsome days it is green.  Once it wasstormy, and it looked almost purple.  Butin any case, on that day, the ocean was blue; very, very blue, in fact.  Even so, it was quite empty on that day;quite, but not entirely. The boy sat on the edge of .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1022186/ If life were a road tripI would always have the windows rolled down.I would grow my hair outSo that it could blow in my faceAnd I would turn my playlist up LOUD Because every journey Needs a good f*****g soundtrack. If life were a road tripI’d drive slo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1022181/ I hate family vacations. There, I said it. My family is composed of just four people - my mom, my dad, my brother, and me. And any subset of those people together makes for a really fun time. But when the four of us try to go anywhere or do anything together, it leads to the unavoidable, cataclysmic.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/1011910/ Another excerpt from the novel that i want to write. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/966810/ Five and a half months of thisof us.And we're still so young.I heard that life goes onwhether you want to go with itor not.But I think this timejust this time,maybe life is waiting for us.Maybe life is a patient being.Maybe we can take our time.Five months and twelve daysprior to today,I r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/944415/ Is it sickto want to hold onto the misery?Is it wrong to thinkthat it made me better?Everything felt so damn blacklight-lessBut here, as I sitin the illumination of contentmentI can't help but rememberhow much I've always lovedthe dark. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/922058/ An excerpt from the novel that I've been thinking about for a while now. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/911934/ Here is where we come to liveTo live, to die, to be humanHere in this hole, in this valleyThis field of roaming wild flowersWe will breathe in the crisp morning Like its sweetness will save our coursing veins And its sunshine our restless mindsWe hold hands like we’.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/847189/ My take on God, i suppose. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/817455/ if you're a bird, then i'm a bird http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/808363/ You’d think writing about youwould be easy, because you’re all I’ve been thinking about for the past threedays.  But the fact is, I still don’tknow what to think. In my dreams, I see your confessions of love; and then whenI wake up, I see the future, or that is, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/802255/ It’s funny how the day started asmy “happy birthday.” It was the sixth, in fact, in a series of just such occasions.  It’s funny how I ended the day in much thesame mindset as I had began it: I was now six. That is one more than five, goodfor me.I got a birthda.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/793288/ Tragedy means nothing without empathyAnd I’ve never been a very empathetic personSympathy is for others, from yourselfIt grows from pityAnd is a cheap substitute.One can’t feel only sympathy For the tragedy of his own countrySuch lossWould make any patriot.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/793207/ Before… After…Always.  When I look at you, I feel… When you lie to me, I feel… Betrayal When you smile, it makes me feel like… Your treacherymakes me feel like… Crying You wrap your arms around me and I&hel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/792111/ A Letter from Your WhiskyDear Darling, my nightmare, thismidnight is our last.  This drag willstop short and my cigarette will fall to ashes at your feet.  We have no more time, my pumpkin carriage awaits.Your lips were sweet while theylingered, but my salty tears have tainte.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/788978/ A List: EverythingI Owe You An apology For all the timesThat I lied And a secretFor all the whispersThat made you cry A kissFor every girlWho took your breath And a wishFor all the onesWho didn’t last&nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/786500/ The clouds watch the grassThat is under the elephantThat lives in the barnThat is burning in the fire And the clouds grinAs the grass swaysBelow the elephant’s snortsTowards the burning barn And the smoke floats upTo the smog of the sky.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/785495/ a story using only pronouns and verbs http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/785493/ “Phrase Exercise” – Every phrase in bold is a random phrase that the teacher called out while we were writing and we had to incorporate each phrase into the piece as we heard it. This is what I wrote http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/785491/ Sweat fell into my eyes as Itook my final bow and gave my final head-nod. With the cheers to our backs, the boys and I strolled off stagegrinning.  We grinned because we rememberedour first in a series of just such grins, and because we might not have anymore grins like this for .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/785490/ “Hey baby,” she said in adrunken drawl.  She had one hand on myshoulder and the other on my chest.  Ididn’t look at her.  “Where ya been?”  I tried to shake her off this time, but sheclung to me like the skin to her Botox-ed cheeks.&ldquo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/785488/ I guess it's a poem http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/785485/ “RAAAAAH HA AH HA MAAAH BLAAAHHOOOOONK” screamed the elephant who was throwing quite the tantrum in thecenter of Time Square.  Spectators kepttheir distance, but they couldn’t seem to look away from the wrinkly, two toncreature who was stomping his feet and flailing in.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/785484/ Shoelaces lead to a place you’venever been.  They’re the soft kind, thekind you used to tie in circles when you were a kid. You would make a small loop,just big enough to round your neck, and leave the rest hanging off the end.Someone once grabbed that string, bounding b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/785236/ I’ve let goI’ve come aroundI’ve changed And I’ve downed More shots than I can countBurn through my throatFed to me byThe people I love most Account forMy heaviest tearsWhen the horizon beckonsAnd the graying sun ne.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/785206/ reflections on the first day of a reborn world http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/784979/ They call me rebelAnd the cigarette slides between my lips as I tell them to f**k offI am no rebelI am a victimOf a lost rebellion The brandy burns my throatAs I wash away the dark blue midnightOf a revolutionGone with the ashesStamped out with the re.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/784957/ Don’t cryDon’t speakDon’t shake and don’t despairAll I ask is that you rememberNot foreverNot alwaysBut remember for nowThe fleeting momentsThe bittersweet goodbyesThe warmth in your handsThe twinge in your breathThe sloppy kiss.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/784530/ This boy's going to kill himself by the end of the pageI know it but he doesn'tI won't tell him until the endUntil his end.Is it cruelto lie to him like this?To present so many optionswhen I've already made up his mind?Noit's not cruelbecause I'll write him to want it.I'll write him to crave the fal.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/779386/ I would color you blueIf my crayon was not yellowAnd my marker was not red If I could take hellFrom the stormy night at seaI’d be left with the afternoon skyAnd I would color you blue If the end did not grow nearerBut time simply thinnedThe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/779369/ Tell me somethingDo you love me?What does that even matterWhat does that even meanI’m here aren’t I I’m not going anywhereDo you love me?I’m hereWe’re all somewhereWhat’s your pointI could be anywhereBut I’m here.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hannah-Paige/769490/