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		<title>India | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/indiamay</link>
		<description>The original writings of author India</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>Poetry since January 2012</title>
			<description>I must go to workbecause I was not bornto the appropriate shopping excursionstrust funds, real estate, inheritance...no, I was born a worker beewithout horizononly walls and walls and wallsall around and as far as the eye can close.We don't do it to survive,to gain things, to do good,but for the fea..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/indiamay/951722/</link>
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			<title>Poetry since January 2011</title>
			<description>Comments appreciated.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/indiamay/693863/</link>
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		<item>
			<title>A group of strangers...</title>
			<description>A picture book.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/indiamay/653883/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Poetry since Creative Writing</title>
			<description>The porch swing bumps against the wallgently like speculations against principles.I should, perhaps, go outside for more thancigarettes and obligations.Hermits have it good.I want to changemy eating habits,my sleeping habits,my thinking habits.My living habits, really,to be a min..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/indiamay/647275/</link>
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			<title>Flash Fiction Story</title>
			<description>225 words.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/indiamay/647272/</link>
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			<title>Poetry for Creative Writing</title>
			<description>AddictIn its bold and violent beauty trimmedRed, the broken flowers in her hands andHer lips mimicked the tone as they spilledFrantic words of love lost,Its brutality like hunger pangs,And craving something she knew would make her ill.Addiction: the ever-consuming impulseShe'd slowly learn to live w..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/indiamay/647268/</link>
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			<title>Deep inside a small intestine...</title>
			<description>A picture book.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/indiamay/647263/</link>
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		<item>
			<title>There once was a girl on the moon...</title>
			<description>A picture book.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/indiamay/647262/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Time</title>
			<description>Chuck made his rounds, clipboard in hand, down the narrow aisle between cages. Sixteen more dead in half as many hours. He jotted down the casualty numbers and left the observation area. Sheep were stupid and helpless, he reminded himself. Their deaths were not so tragic. The chip was failing in nea..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/indiamay/647256/</link>
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