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		<title>Kay | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/littlestnewt</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Kay</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>Chapter One: Festival Day</title>
			<description>Everyone was out for Festival Day. In the small town, any possible excuse to join together and cease the backbreaking monotony of farm work was established and abused as often as possible. This particular Festival Day was dedicated to the celebration of a particular breed of myths that were created ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/759348/</link>
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			<title>Prologue</title>
			<description>There could only be one. A law unwritten, yet so intertwined with our blood that it was more binding than any other law in our world. And so is the story of the Ones.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/747504/</link>
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			<title>The Giving Child</title>
			<description>People will go to the ends of the world to save someone they love. Hardy was no exception. With nothing more than his life to offer, he sets off to seek the help of the One. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/747502/</link>
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			<title>Wrong</title>
			<description>We have a problem when our knee-jerk response is to assume no one knows what they're talking about. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/701256/</link>
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			<title>7: Riel Tea Party </title>
			<description>In which lifeguards are absent and noses are broken. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/682755/</link>
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			<title>6: I Pantsed Myself and Other Observations</title>
			<description>In which shirts are wet and ice cream is everywhere. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/682750/</link>
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			<title>5: Of Wheelbarrows and S'mores </title>
			<description>In which dragons breathe marshmallows and Johnny Depp visits.  </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/682414/</link>
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			<title>4: I May or May Not Be Insane</title>
			<description>In which pants are leather and tables taste bad. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/682400/</link>
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			<title>3: How Not to Shop With Crazy, Menopausal Women</title>
			<description>In which clowns are traumatizing and there is shrubbery but no knights. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/682285/</link>
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			<title>2: Turtles and Fuzzy Handcuffs </title>
			<description>In which Pop-Tarts are devoured and dashboards are altars. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/682248/</link>
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			<title>1: Posts and What Not to Do With Them</title>
			<description>In which poles are walked and juice is spilled. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/682225/</link>
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			<title>That's My Problem</title>
			<description>Ava Riel was going to get things right. Eventually. For now getting her mouth to open only when wanted, her best friend to come out of the closet and staying on her feet are challenges enough.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/682220/</link>
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			<title>Didn't Mean To</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I was staring straight into the face of a killer. They blinked nervously back at me as I fought to remain calm, hoping my expression wouldn&amp;rsquo;t give away my inner feelings of revulsion.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/675459/</link>
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			<title>Gravedigger </title>
			<description>MichaelHe watched the body tumble down the stairs and all he could think was that it was not near as entertaining as a slinky. Just as the girl&amp;rsquo;s head hit the concrete floor with a sickening crack that had a disturbing sense of finality &amp;#2013266048;&quot; if she hadn&amp;rsquo;t been dead before, sh..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/662461/</link>
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			<title>Buried</title>
			<description>HansIt&amp;rsquo;s been a while since I&amp;rsquo;ve been dead. You&amp;rsquo;d think after dying on and off in the same pattern for three hundred years I&amp;rsquo;d be used to how it worked, but nope. As it had been every other time, I was horrified and rather inconvenienced by the slew of feelings I&amp;rsquo;d qu..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/661985/</link>
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			<title>Noises in the Night</title>
			<description>Dead things should stay that way. The unfortunate fact of the matter is, they rarely do. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/661983/</link>
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			<title>Scars</title>
			<description>Whether it be from falling off our bikes, or tumbling from atop the monkey bars, most of us are left with the ridge of pale, hard tissue to remind us of our spills, our lapses of sanity that lead to injury. We are all damaged, but some scars run deeper than those on our faces&amp;hellip; or our wrists...</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/littlestnewt/653881/</link>
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