http://slow.writerscafe.org/Adnane The original writings of author Adnane Maaloum en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776048156 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 “Room..this is a room..where am I ?, Iam obviously in a room ..unfamiliar it seems” I thought as soon as I woke up. Whenthe Amygdala started accelerating fear, my hands automatically were raised by thesudden realization that I am unjustifiably naked in an unknown cold room wit.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Adnane/1867646/ And here it is, life inexperienced by me. It seems that me is notcompatible with this thing called life. I feel like I died the same microsecondI was born. The second this male surgeon pulled me out of my mother’s womb precipitatelyas if done by habit. As if hundreds of other women w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Adnane/1818447/ "The table over there..beside the window.. seems calm" she said while enthusiastically holding my ring finger and pinky together with her warm hand as she lead me. we sat like regular couple, me and her and the wooden table between us. she smiled, gazed as she was turning her head unsteadi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Adnane/1760009/ It was evening, after he finished his shift, the young waiter sat on a black chair made of iron and beautifully designed cushion, drinking a cup of coffee lied upon a white small plate. In the corner of the restaurant, finally he was taking a rest after the strenuous job, thinking while wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Adnane/1760008/ His name is …I don’t really know…they just call him with whatever names very near to their lips. Sometimes they address him with merely “You”, other times “young”, and most of the time “weirdo”. It sounds more like a put-down than a fai.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Adnane/1760004/ She is lost; she has been through a lot of dreadful experiences. Trust, honesty, mercy, tenderness, and love are nothing more than words she reads in letters. Every time she reads one old letter; her teardrops flow through her pale cheeks into the paper till those misleading words go out o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Adnane/1759996/ As I laid, alone, upon the messy bed in a dark night, the blanket spread over the half of my body. A book or two which tired of reading laying across a small old wooden, three-legged table, and a backless chair under it. I deliberately switched off any source of light including my phone, l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Adnane/1759994/ Sometimes you reach a point in life when you must confess,must go naked without those fancy elegant colorful silky garments you wore from the day you begin to see the world through your tiny narrow eyes, must walk barefoot in order to sense the cold mud beneath, must take off the mask you ha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Adnane/1759992/