http://slow.writerscafe.org/SLPeacock The original writings of author S. L. Peacock en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776047211 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 The afternoon wasbright and hot, a warm wind bringing life to otherwise still plantlife. Leaves above rustles on their branches and vines swayed on thetrunks of hundreds of large, dark trees. The canopy was so thick, thefloor was in an almost perpetual state of twilight with only smallray.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SLPeacock/1949138/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SLPeacock/1949136/ Gwendolyn stoodthere, silently, still as the grave. Her good eye slowly scanning thebodies littering the cold dirt floor at her bare feet. She felt…nothing. Neither anger nor pity or grief. She could not even musterthe hollow sense of loss. She just… was. She removed the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SLPeacock/1948456/