http://slow.writerscafe.org/Ritterbecka The original writings of author A.Renae en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776143881 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I catch a waft of stale smoke and patchouli as he glides down the isle way to his seat dressed in a camouflage bomber jacket that looks like something strait out of Vietnam. He stares out the window watching the snow melt on the glass as he picks at the callouses on his fingers. While he stare.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Ritterbecka/1712939/ When I was 5-years-old my father would drag me to the bowling alley with him on Sunday nights. I never wanted to go, but there was never anyone home to watch me, so I was stuck listening to the pins crashing while my dad and his buddies drank cheap bear and chain smoked cigarettes. There were never .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Ritterbecka/1712839/ She grew up in the backwoods of Ohio; the kind of town people spend the first half of their life in only to run away from it in their last half. She had everything girl could have ever wanted. She was a prom queen beauty and possessed enough wit that could charm the legs off a table. As time passed.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Ritterbecka/1712812/ She was an insecure, brace-faced, curvy girl stuck in a school full of too- tan, baby -tee wearing, Paris- Hilton- wannabes that consistently reminded her of how she would never be like them. She spent most of her weekends trashed off raspberry Smirnoffs trying to keep up with her friends in a pathe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Ritterbecka/1712808/