http://slow.writerscafe.org/ryrykm The original writings of author Ryan Mulroy en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775995361 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 It is 10:03 PM, and I am sitting at the kitchen island. My mom's computer is among the only sources of light in the space. I can hear Jack talking to his friends through headphones. Occasionally he screeches. He sounds like a monkey, a monkey who has holed itself up in a corner of a basement to star.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ryrykm/2175934/ So this little boy is walking down the sidewalk one day. He picks up a piece of chalk that had been resting in the crack between two concrete tiles. He begins to draw on the sidewalk. First, he draws a circle with two dots for eyes and a crescent mouth. Then, he draws a stick for a body, a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ryrykm/2004394/ She's got something she really, really needs to say, but how can she say it when there is no one to listen? How can she cry out in pain over her minor oppressions, when others do not feel the same way?How can she sing her happiness to walls of brick and stone and metal?How can she run .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ryrykm/2004389/ They were the definition of beauty. No wonder why people chose those cliffs for their own self-destruction. I looked over the edge, and I felt adrenaline pumping through my veins. I was only two feet from a certain death. The wind blew my hair and chilled my bones. Waves crashed against rocks at the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ryrykm/1799986/ Julie Graham was a model. Not literally, but she could have been. Her long, blonde hair was her most captivating feature. She had blue eyes too. They were dark blue and smiling even when her mouth wasn't moving. She didn't need to wear makeup or get spray tans like other girls. Julie was just perfe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ryrykm/1798790/