http://slow.writerscafe.org/rupsha The original writings of author rupsha en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776072652 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 discover yourself. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rupsha/1790705/ SCARSThescars screamed just to find a pinch of relief from somewhere…from somewhere? Fromhim.They werewounded. They bled. Torn apart.“The markshuman leave are too often scars,” she contemplated.The scarswere her stories. History written somewhere on her... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rupsha/1789963/ Disgust. Irritation. Avoidance. Negetivity.Now these were the words he associated with her who had once cast her spell of love on him.She was his own. His love for him was immense yet hidden.He was her world. She didnot fathom anything beyond him.Both worked on tiny hurdles and walked their .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rupsha/1789404/ He wasnot the very loving kind. Strange, strong and stable.Shewas exactly the other side of the horizon. The usual, simple but flowing.He wasthose rock hard mountains and she being the streaming river cut her way out ofhim.She hadno way without him. He had no beauty without her.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rupsha/1785955/ Theglitters faded away. We the “painters” ruined it. We ruined it. Theconstant scrubbing of the black fizzled it. But then we drew a line with awhite pastel only to find another layer of black. Butnever the glitters. I would live if at least I found the blurred.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rupsha/1785954/