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		<title>raven | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/rea</link>
		<description>The original writings of author raven</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>The consolation of monotony </title>
			<description>Someone is knocking at the door. I go to open it. It is a familiar face, my friend. &quot;Hello friend&quot; - I say. He comes in and we sit at the table next to the window. We have a chair, facing each other, from time to time glancing at the setting of the sun. It is beautiful. The clouds are soft and fluff..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rea/1857000/</link>
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			<title>Microwave</title>
			<description>Now what is it that you thinkwhen you stare into your microwave? Most likely, your cooking food. Or maybeyou're just staring at your own reflection. Perhaps, the light starts toflicker and you are now considering getting it fixed by a professional. Trustme, you don't want to screw around..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rea/1820998/</link>
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			<title>Tomato-sauce spaghetti and the intruder </title>
			<description>i was waiting for my dinner to cook while listening to some enjoyable music. seated at the couch, watching the clouds drifting by. I soon spotted the first star of the newly born night. The crisp air coming from the wide-open window had enveloped me in a state of tranquility. The tomato sauce finish..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rea/1819258/</link>
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			<title>ukulele</title>
			<description>more bullshit</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rea/1812851/</link>
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			<title>why would i rather lie to myself</title>
			<description>it's pretty bullshit</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rea/1812848/</link>
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			<title>Auto-play</title>
			<description>The song has been on auto-play for 13 days and a half. Its words carefully carving into my brain. I can feel the pain of the needle piercing through. I wake up to the sound of its words. I dream about them, and mindlessly mumble as i stare out of the window. A blank stare, lacking any special meanin..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rea/1812819/</link>
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			<title>Woods</title>
			<description>Nostalgia captivates about a place I have never been.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rea/1812194/</link>
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