http://slow.writerscafe.org/evecohen The original writings of author Eve en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776028624 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1739218/ The day after we saw Starwars was New Years Eve. Michael picked me up in his pickup truck around 9:00 that evening. As previously stated, neither of us cared for parties, so we had set up a "plan B" in case we wanted to leave the party early. Plan B was going back to my house and watching Disn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1739217/ I first got to know Michael in the winter of 2015. I was seventeen at the time; a junior in high school. He was eighteen; a senior. Although he was a senior, not that many people knew him because he had just moved to Worthington at the beginning of the year. Hell, I didn't even know him. All I knew.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1734466/ I don't want to forget the little things about this relationship, so I'm going to write them down here to jog my memory when I need it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1734456/ I have never believed in love at first sight. I still hold true to that belief. I now know that love takes not one look, but many glances. For me it took five long and hard glances before I completely fell for him. At first glance, I was drawn in by his smile. I believe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1725228/ Around 1:30 in the morning, a nurse asked me to take my mother home and get some rest. My mom was asleep by Eric's bed, still sitting in a chair. Lena had fallen asleep with her head resting next to her husband. My mother had called my dad only a few hours earlier, and he was getting on the next fl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1696116/ It is during these sleepless nightsthat I spend lying awakethinking, dreaming,that I find myself floating away.I rise up, away from the present;away from reality;away from what I have been taught to believe in.I slowly rise,and I gently fall.Each night I seem to fly even farther;even higherthan.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1690298/ I wonder how others are able to get through it.I am not strong enough.The past year has made me weak. I have grown tired and wearyof the constant battle to survive;the constant battle to thrive;the constant battle to relate.I look down at the bowl before me.The cup is filling up more and more.M.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1677049/ That Thursday was the last family dinner we would have for a while. Had I known that then, I would have enjoyed every last minute of it. I would have soaked in every word uttered, every breath taken. I would have memorized every detail of that night and enjoyed every last bit of it. However, I did .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1674272/ The weeks following Eve's birthday were spent the same as every other week of my life. I went to school, came home, watched Eve until either Lena or Eric arrived home from work, returned to my apartment, ate dinner with my mom, finished my homework, and then went to bed. I enjoyed this daily routin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1672615/ A response to the bombings in Paris. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1667488/ Growing up in New York City, I learned at an early age to watch my back. From the time I was twelve I've carried pepper spray and a small pocket knife wherever I go. Luckily, I've never had to use them, but I've heard the horror stories people tell about the bad parts of town. I always avoid the mo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1667050/ When I was ten, I made my first ever trip to a hospital. I was there for the birth of my niece, Eve. My only sibling, Eric, was twenty three years old at that time and happily married to his high school sweetheart, Lena. Both of them were giddy with delight when their first baby was born. Eve was b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1666404/ When I first met him, we were both staying in the left wing of the local hospital. Ivan was  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1666387/ One day you will hear the pin. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1656198/ I couldn't say a word. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1650005/ There comes a time in everyone's life where we all need to change. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1648724/ Don't look back at what you once had.Every person must learn this critical lesson.Perfection is not attainable. ForReasons I can notExplain, it is important that you try to forget.Set down the razor,Set down the knife,It will never satisfy you need to be happy. There isOnly one thing to do. You must.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1648614/ I had no intention of ending things when we got into my car. It wasn't until we were halfway to his house that the thought even crossed my mind. What started as an everyday conversation turned into an argument, which then became a fight. Actually, this was our first fight. It was amazing really. We.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1644826/ When you feel reality slippingAnd you hear the old clock tickingAnd out your chest your heart is rippingInvite me inside your tomb.For though they left you broken heartedYour time has just now started.Don't dance with the departed.Set a flame to this dark room.Sit back and watch the fireAs the flame.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1641459/ Beauty is fleeting, and charm is deceptive. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1639728/ I was sure that this was the house they had been talking about. As I paced around to the side yard, I could almost feel the house breathing. I knew it could sense me. The sound of branches scratching against a brick wall rang out as my hair blew around my face. I could feel the temperature dropping.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1638395/ I drive a white '98 Honda Accord.This is the same car that brought me home from the hospitalthe day after I was born.This is the same carthat brought me back to the hospitalwhen I broke my arm for the first time.This is the same carthat I was taught to drive in.This is the carthat my sister wil.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1637674/ I remember being afraid of my grandmother as a kid. I hardly knew her or anything about her. Possibly the only thing I knew about her was her first name; Eileen. She lived in a small, one bedroom apartment in Lorain, Ohio with her husband, my daddy’s step father, who was constantly puffing on .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1636888/ Down a moonlit path,across the deep blue air,there stood an elegant girl,tall and thin and fair.As I then approached her,I saw tears were in her eyes.I offered her my handand took her hand in mine.I then wiped her eyes.For she knew her troubles were through.“Come with me,” I said,“.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1636880/ There is a place beyond the shoresbeyond the rising sun-Where children playand laugh all day-They jump, they dance, they run.And in this placebeyond the worldand all the trials of life,there is no hate-no harm is done-no battles- and no strife.Here they come,and here they staywhen all hope is truly .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1636878/ There she laywaiting to be played withjust one more time.Shut in a boxand awaiting the dayshe is taken out again.Praying for one more chance-just one moreto make a little girl smile one more time.She yearns for the child to changeher clothes and brush her hair.Her clothes are still clean-and her hai.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1636875/ Written after my first major breakup with my boyfriend of more than a year. Let me know what you think. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1636073/ Don’t cry, my child.It will all end soon.When the grass turns greenand the sky returns blue.You can gayly playand laugh once again-with your father and motherholding your hand.Don’t cry, my child.There will come a timewhen the tears will ceaseand benignly dry.The lost will come homeand a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/evecohen/1636060/