http://slow.writerscafe.org/wovoash The original writings of author Ashleigh Mar en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776163614 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 My identity is not made up of the parts of people who planted flowers in the cracks of my rib cage and then murmured into the chasm of my emotional ambiguity where my neck meets my shoulder. Their flowers are still rotting. I’m sorry that I reek of sorrow and decomposition. My identity is not .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wovoash/1842832/ The drive from Toronto to Montreal is boring they said. But it was hours of green green green. Beauty. As much green as there is grey in Toronto. On the way back I watched the sunlight through the clouds. Tiny patches of blue sky. The green leaves danced. We talked about the places we'd trav.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wovoash/1817265/