http://slow.writerscafe.org/Amber%20Tasch The original writings of author Amber Tasch en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775995338 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I girl all alone in the wood, will meet things that are not good http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1127490/      China awoke to something soft tapping his face. He grabbed the small black paw and moved his pet panda onto the bed where he had just slept. He smiled to himself as it rolled over, unable to keep its balace. To China, everything seemed to be falling. Even he felt like he was.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1112108/ I want to writebut as hard as I tryI think of all that you saidall that you told meand I don't want thatI want to writewhat I want to writewhether you care or notlike or dislikewhat ever the subject may beif on a childish whimI embarass myselfand want to writewhat you don't.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1112103/ When you diewe do not forgetbecause we are the deadand we are not usin an effort not to losethose dearly lovedno name are you givenuntil they dieand you are predecessorto their ended lifeso that it does not endyou take their nameyou take their lifeand you are no longer youa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1109782/ This is sort of a before story. They have not yet met Mitchell. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1099422/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1098332/ Mitchell seemed to fit right in school even though it was hisfirst day. What was even more bizarre was that he fit in as a transfer student.But perhaps the most bizarre thing about Mitchell's situation was that hedidn't want to fit in. All of his life he had wanted to be on his own. The wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1090711/      David Bennet paced the cold linolium floors of the hospital waiting room. A dark cloud seemed to hang over him. The other men in the waiting room were nerous too, but David was especially nervous. With only three dollars to his name, not to mention three mortgages on his sma.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1079265/ Staggering pitchesand tumbling notesexplode in every directionas a tuneless number swirls monochromein the aireach beat is a pulseof a heart hidden in timethe tracks begin to skipand the record is stuck on repeatdancers lose their graceand the composer once a kingis now a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1076875/ Running in place is hardbut starting to run is harderif all I want to do is become something elsethen why is that so hard? Surely if I dream it then it can become truehaving only one goal in life is something to live forbut what is that goal?and why go towards it so fast? Delaying my only .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1072439/ for a contest http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1071240/ bleh http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1070795/ thats right, I'm making another book that you'll never read. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1070793/ more robot poems! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1069625/ America’s whole body ached from hours of overuse. With aheavy sigh he heaved open the door to his room and threw himself onto his plushbed. Being the hero wasn’t easy, especially since he was only pretending to bethe hero. America had a reputation to uphold and it required him .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1065995/      Just because we run does not mean that we can escape. Just because we breathe does not mean that we really live. It's only the time that passes that keeps this world spinning and nothing more.     Mitagi scribbled in her notebook while everyone wrote .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1065911/ I've always wanted a tragedysomething bad to happen to meeither a diseaseor injury or great lossbecause life is just too boringand even though i know its wrongI've always wnated a tragedybecause I'm just too lostand just too bored http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1065909/    Raven stood there in the hot autumn breeze. It was unusually warm for a September day. Her red boots rocked back and forth in the blood red grass. The black sky was swirled with white clouds above her. With a sigh of desperation, she began to walk as she reflected for her sins in the Ba.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1061035/      If moral codes are created through experiance, living a long time, then why is it that when I have lived much longer, I now find myself wondering why everything matters. With another drag of my cigaret and a heavy sigh I made my way to the rain soaked window of the New York .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1060647/     I'm standing on the edge, taking in large breaths. The anxiety I'm feeling is enough to kill me. My red boots hang off the edge as I prepare to leave this world behind and enter a new one. Yet, all I can think of, is you.     Two years ago we sat on my.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1053651/ There once was a robotbuilt with a tin headcopper bodytwo silver armsand two heavy golden legsbuild with the capability of imaginationand able to longyearnand wanthe was curiousthe little robot of tin, copper, silver, and goldbut the little robot was also builtwith a plug.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1052182/ they say I'm meandisgustinguglyfatstupidnerdyscarycrazycruelbut what they dont knowas that they made me this way'because my wals are upand I could care lessbecause before I was like thisI was vulnerableand they hurt me http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1050110/ crushing on someone http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1046515/ i want to keep writing more stories like this^^ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1043497/ going to be a cute little romance^^ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1042946/ halloween!! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1040387/    The strangest thing about me was my hair. It was black but not a real black. It looked fake, like it had been dyed. My hair wasn' coarse though, like it gets when you dye it. It was smooth like silk. That was the strangest thing about me to everyone one else. I blended in well and no on.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1038778/ I do write but often I will hide it or when it is shows, no one looks at it. perhaps it would be best to stick with drawing http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1029522/       A long time ago, there was a girl who lived in an imaginary land. In that land lived the girl, and only the girl. The girl longed for friends but the world that she lived in had no one else. So the girl decided to create some friends of her own. She set out on her jour.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1028541/ its impossible to understanda history that you didn't writeforced upon you like a bad coldon a hot summers daymaking no sence at all If I told you that I was scaredthen surely you would reach outbut then again, maybe I should be reaching out to you? Burtsing out of my.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1020383/ about a little girl who is a monster and can turn people to stone, and the young man who believes in her http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1011230/        Mr. Heroic, the hero of all heros. If the day needs saving he arrives before you can even call him. He can easily be picked out in a crowd by the air of kindness that surrounds him, that and his blue and white costume. He flies faster than a jet, is stronger that.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1010090/ sorry doesn't cut it anymoreso maybe a blade could do the trickbut then againnone of this is real is it? if you wantwe can play this game a little moreplease, just humor mebut then you were never good at telling jokes Even if we survive in this cruel worldcan you still love the outcome?and.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1005965/ the thrid story to a sort of series that I wrote. The stories go in order: Two Reflection Two Pages Two Endings http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/1000342/ Running aroundscratching at dirty pajamaswanting to change into something newbut knowing its just a thoughtor is my life that i really search for a change in? Slipping itno something coolbut in reality its just another sticky situationstrap on a helmet and run for our livestripping on another l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/997308/ I used to believe that there were real junglecats in the woods and that they would eat me. This explains why I'm kind of a shut in, I don't believe that there are junglecats, I'm used to being inside. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/986580/ just a poem i wrote! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/982770/ Running takes thirty percent of my energy. Thinking takes another ten. Breathing takes another fourty. We are now up to eighty percent. With my other twenty percent I can do impossible things. Running takes so little effort that everything else come naturally. Walking only takes up three percent of .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/977796/ blah. I'm so embarassed http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/975427/ Zoey T., Zoey T.The girl from down the streetBe glad that you will never knowThe secrets that she keeps Her hair is black Her eyes are redLike the blood of bodies deadBe glad that you will never knowwhat dwells inside her head   http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/974830/ A sequel to me previous work, Two Reflections http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/969032/              Taking in heavy breaths, I ran through my endless world. It is lonley here but every so often I find a mirror. In these mirrors I can see into another world. The world of the living. Its not that I'm dead, I just.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/961091/ I know it sucks. I'm just writing as my mind becomes numb. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/959575/         I ran through the streets. I cannot remember now, but I think i was running from myself. I am a detestable creature running from my home. The assylum could only get further behind me and I could only move foreward. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/955572/ Final song. still to the tune of la la lu la Giving Girl is ^ Her friend is # The duet parts are * http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/943901/ ^ is the girl #is the boy *is the duet parts A poem about two Grim Reapers, dealing death http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/943895/ another tuneless song http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/943477/ no specific tune, but I wanted to write some lyrics http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/943465/    At the end of the world there was man and his creations. These creation could not live and could not breathe so they ultimatly survived the end of the human race. Though they would never be used again, had they had sould, the machines would have taken comfort in this idea. The  Ear.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/934458/    Martha looked out the window with a childish thought dancing in her brain, but that wasn't unusual. She was imagining that every one that the red sedan paseed had cat ears and said "meow" to eachother. Her older sister however, was less entertained. Molly saw this trip for what it reall.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Amber-Tasch/903089/