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		<title>Enigma  | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/Wh_ites</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Enigma </description>
		<language>en-us</language>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>Tea</title>
			<description>&quot;Good morning good sir would you like a cup of tea?&amp;nbsp;Oh no you poor degenerate soul!&amp;nbsp;Look! It&amp;rsquo;s almost a quarter &amp;lsquo;till three!&amp;nbsp;Swallow all that money and forget your brutish pride.&amp;nbsp;Oh and those dreams you said you once had?&amp;nbsp;Well just push them all aside!&amp;nbsp;You&amp;r..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1405745/</link>
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			<title>Locked</title>
			<description>Come outsideloveyou&amp;rsquo;re still in there right?I didn&amp;rsquo;t mean toclose the door,the latch was simplyjammed.I know you don&amp;rsquo;twant to leavebut I promisethis time will be thelast.Am I speaking to any empty room?Did you alreadyget dressed andgo?I hope you&amp;rsquo;llforgive me this timeloveit w..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1394769/</link>
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			<title>Ain't No Friend Of Mine</title>
			<description>The man downstairs is very clever,can he hide his plans forever?Conjectures blackhis tongueis rotten,timeless nightswomen forgotten,onetwo threefour steps beforethe door down belowthen shuts for good,whilst upstairs,the times are still good.The man downstairsall dressed ingreen,but why? For who?What..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1394331/</link>
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			<title>Blomobert</title>
			<description>Take a drink the clocks tickingthe sun comes up soonyou&amp;rsquo;re still not happyyou&amp;rsquo;re just a dogwith a dead wifeand no bonetake another drink fill that empty dog headno, you&amp;rsquo;re not done yetyou&amp;rsquo;re still full of dreaddon&amp;rsquo;t worrydon&amp;rsquo;t try anymorethe clocks still tickingth..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1392520/</link>
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			<title>&quot;And So It Goes&quot;</title>
			<description>The threshold ofthe universeportrays a backdroplike no otherseen bythe nakedeye of the mansitting on his porchunderneath the heavystars, thoughtsswirling as the deafeningsilence only broughtthe tremors backthe memories backthe touch of the girlhe let goon an even colored bythe smell of boozeresting ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1390543/</link>
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			<title>Did it Hurt?</title>
			<description>I wasn&amp;rsquo;t very surprised to see everyone standing around the open casket, eyes all swollen and red with tears streaming down their cheeks.Their ghostly pale lips quivering, and heavy hearts thumping. It was a funeral after all, and things were supposed to be sad and depressive(unless you&amp;rsquo;..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1385086/</link>
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			<title>Belly Up</title>
			<description>It speaks for itself</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1384759/</link>
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			<title>Edwards Poem</title>
			<description>A vesper murmuredTo an empty ventCoated in dust, moistWith snails dewAn earthworm is tied By the hands of a toddlerInto a bow his sister woreBefore they burrowed Into her skullA father is plowing The fields at duskTalking to the old treesChopping down the old treesAnd sleeping in their trunksThe you..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1380411/</link>
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			<title>Untitled VIII</title>
			<description>Overstepping the darkside of the moon onlyto land in apuddle of soulssearching forheavenbut never crossing the line splittingHell,how can one stillbe so lost in the starsgallant above?Was the moonnot enoughor did you merelysee the sunaround the bend as you sipped anebula of imprudence?</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1380409/</link>
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			<title>Untitled VII</title>
			<description>It always happens, when you&amp;rsquo;re laying or sitting, or standing, doing nothing. You don't seem to hear the pitter-patter of the rain hitting the windows, or the ticking of a clock, the creaking of your house, or, even, most of all, the beating of your own heart. All you hear is silence. Silence ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1380079/</link>
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			<title>Untitled III</title>
			<description>Transient memories swallow my brain and drown into aheart pumping outdead wisdom aeons awayfrom my fingertips.My soul homelessmy body everywhereI am aware of nothingunderneath this hearty loam.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1379551/</link>
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			<title>Rapunzel</title>
			<description>Locked high in a towerher parents weredead, a girl onceforgotten, was to be wed.The town down bellow was all sick and red,the masses all riled the people burned heads.But a prince, a princechose to climb past the sky. To bring joy down below, to end all the cries. He grabbed her longhair and hauled ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1379550/</link>
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			<title>Falling</title>
			<description>A story about a Leaf observing his last few days as Autumn approaches.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1379523/</link>
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			<title>Seasons</title>
			<description>Why didn&amp;rsquo;t myheart skip a beatand my eyes start to waterwhen your lips openedand you said&amp;lsquo;I like you more than the summer sun and all its endlessrays of warmth. Ilike you more thanthe autumn leavesfresh from the trees&amp;rdquo; ?Maybe it&amp;rsquo;s becauseI&amp;rsquo;m a winterperson.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1373128/</link>
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			<title>Epilouge</title>
			<description>Around 3am I shuddered underneath the covers, my hand slapping hard against the empty space next to me. My toes furiously curled into the thick sheets, my figure morphing into the bare white spread underneath me as I tried to compensate for my losses. I shivered uncontrollably as my eyes searched th..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369672/</link>
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			<title>Day 171</title>
			<description> I was sitting in the car with Colin, who refused to tell me much of anything at all. My head was throbbing and my body felt as though someone ran me over twice for good measure with a semi-truck. We were sitting in an nearly empty parking lot with &amp;nbsp;ice cream, even though it was midnight. I had..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369670/</link>
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			<title>Day 163</title>
			<description>&amp;ldquo;Marc you look like a skinhead&amp;hellip;&amp;rdquo; I said distraughtly jabbing him in the back of the neck. He gave me a weary smile but didn&amp;rsquo;t look up from his shoes as he furiously polished them. I watched him awkwardly come to a stand. He was wearing a long white collar shirt underneath a ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369669/</link>
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			<title>Day 162</title>
			<description>I didn&amp;rsquo;t really enjoy sitting in the hospital with Marc, but he had asked me to go this once and I couldn&amp;rsquo;t resist spending time with him. &amp;ldquo;I find it hard to stay positive when I feel like I'm not going to stick around very long.&amp;rdquo; With those terrible terrible words branded ke..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369668/</link>
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			<title>Day 159</title>
			<description>&amp;ldquo;I find it hard to stay positive when I feel like I'm not going to stick around very long.&amp;rdquo; he whispered, his eyes darting away from my face. I curled into my sweater slowly, my legs entwined with his own. I let the soft skin of the sheets rub against my legs as I felt the rustling breez..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369667/</link>
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			<title>Day 158</title>
			<description>Things weren&amp;rsquo;t always bad. Marc wasn&amp;rsquo;t always dying, and I wasn't always so anxiety stricken. Things were good before all of this started to happen. As good as they were ever going to be. Sometimes I could forget he was sick. Sometimes life was partially normal. Standing in the kitchen o..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369666/</link>
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			<title>Day 157</title>
			<description>I slowly trudged into my room, my clothes all worn and baggy. I was wearing his shirt to be precise, cleaned,.pressed and removed of the stains. There was a trojan horse on the front left side, right on top of the breast. It was stenciled out and traced over multiple times, and then eventually fille..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369664/</link>
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			<title>Day 139</title>
			<description>&amp;ldquo;Geoff&amp;hellip; you&amp;rsquo;re a boy. How do you know if you&amp;rsquo;re in love?&amp;rdquo; I gleaned, lounging across the couch he had in his office. Looking above his glasses he shook his head and started reading something from a book I would never take the time to remember the name of.	&amp;ldquo;Why do..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369663/</link>
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			<title>Day 126</title>
			<description>It was about 2am on a Tuesday and Marc had decided to spend the night with me. Unable to eat, sleep, or drink due to his nerves I figured there would be no harm in having him stay just for one night. I folded the comforters over our bare skin slowly feeling my body press against his own. Leaning up ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369659/</link>
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			<title>Day 114</title>
			<description>Grinding my teeth together fiercely I let myself stand in the doorway of my bathroom, arms crossed, hair frantically everywhere and a mess I tried not to think about the noise coming from behind me. It was a mixture of pain and agony, confusion and above all, rage. I closed my eyes briefly feeling t..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369658/</link>
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			<title>Day 99</title>
			<description>&amp;ldquo;That&amp;rsquo;s crazy&amp;hellip;&amp;rdquo; Kate grunted stuffing her face with ramen and broccoli. I shrugged down into my seat, scarf covering most of my mouth as I leaned my head against my knees. &amp;ldquo;Eh,&amp;rdquo; she swallowed hard giving me the one-two look over. &amp;ldquo;why aren&amp;rsquo;t you eatin..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369656/</link>
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			<title>Day 98</title>
			<description>Sunday. It had been days since I had last heard from or seen Marc Hanson. Laying in bed I curled my legs against one another slowly examining the piles of fat that was collected atop them. I stared at my pale bruised skin, and the freckles that spotted it. My eyes were heavy and drooped, permanent b..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369653/</link>
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			<title>Day 96</title>
			<description>I exhaled smoothly letting the thin fibers of grass brush against my pale skin as I sat in the grass, a large oak tree positioned above me. With my camera resting against my chest I curled my fingernails into the dirt and let my eyes slide shut as a cool breeze shoot the leaves and branches above. E..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369652/</link>
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			<title>Day 81</title>
			<description>Buster charged into my knee caps playfully letting his head bash against the surface of my bare skin, his prickled hairs tickling against me as I sprawled myself out on the kitchen floor. Laying opposite to that of my friend Katherine, who was giving me the death stare I knew, I was still flounderin..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369650/</link>
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			<title>Day 76</title>
			<description>&amp;ldquo;I don&amp;rsquo;t mean to come off as rude but.. what the hell made you decide to ask me out to lunch?&amp;rdquo; I said shivering a bit as a sick chill danced up my spine. I pushed my legs together underneath the table and tried to calm my nerves but nothing was working. Swirling around the straw in..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369649/</link>
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			<title>Day 75</title>
			<description>	&amp;ldquo;Hey Isabelle Noir correct?&amp;rdquo; the voice sounded familiar but I was in no position to put a face to it. Sitting outside my therapist office I scanned the hallway quickly wondering just how late he was going to be this evening but tried to think nothing of it.	&amp;ldquo;Yes.. May I ask who&amp;rs..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369648/</link>
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			<title>Day 68</title>
			<description>Drugs had always been a part of my life. I was always fascinated at the fact a small tiny pill was able to bring so much relief or cause so much internal and external damage to a person within moments of swallowing it. There were so many different kinds, different purposes and so many ways to obtain..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369646/</link>
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			<title>Day 63</title>
			<description>Maybe it was fate? Maybe it wasn&amp;rsquo;t? I had no way of knowing. Sitting at the office as I waited for Dr. Geoff I took the liberty of taking out a piece of paper and pencil, and started to scribble down some old thoughts. MY cheeks were flushed with pink and I chewed constantly on my tongue in an..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369644/</link>
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			<title>Day 55</title>
			<description>Have you ever taken the time to think about teeth? None in particular, but teeth as a whole. When they first begin to form, they grow slowly and progressively break through the surface of the tender red and pink gums when you&amp;rsquo;re a child, each at a different rate and a different time. They come..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369642/</link>
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			<title>Day 40</title>
			<description>Turns out that guy Collin? He and I had a sick similarity. I found him later on during the shoot after all had died down, and everyone was more interested in their small group chatting instead of the more persistent meet-and-greet atmosphere. Walking into the parking lot, I found the very same man w..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369641/</link>
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			<title>Day 32</title>
			<description>I liked to believe I was the closest thing to indestructible. Nothing could break me more than I already was. So why the hell was I sitting in a psychiatry office waiting for a doctor?Gazing at the clock periodically, &amp;nbsp;my muscles started to stir, and my body protest having been sitting in a off..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369640/</link>
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			<title>Day 24</title>
			<description>When I was a little girl I was convinced that nothing was real, and the world was all mine. Everything happened because I wanted it too, whether I knew it or not. When I was eleven, I had a falsely labelled &quot;asthma&quot; attack and disappeared into the school bathrooms, hoping I would have enough time to..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369636/</link>
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			<title>Day 170</title>
			<description>&amp;ldquo;Why is the beat of a single pile of assorted tissues and blood so falsely defining? So fragile and profound without a care&amp;hellip;&amp;rdquo; he started out softly. &amp;ldquo;Yet, so significantly phenomenal to the naked eye and nearly incomprehensible to the smartest minds?&amp;rdquo; I stiffened my gr..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369634/</link>
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			<title>7 Grams</title>
			<description>The entire store needs more filler but... don't worry. I'll get there eventually</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369633/</link>
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			<title>Pope</title>
			<description>Praise beto the men in uniformand the women alldressed in blackawaiting thedeath of thepope.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369198/</link>
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			<title>#003 I Found A Dog And His Name Isn't Ferdinand</title>
			<description>How do you tell a boy you don&amp;rsquo;t believe in God, when you&amp;rsquo;ve grown up force feeding it down his throat for the extent of his life? How do you tell him his Mother ditched and isn&amp;rsquo;t coming back despite what his father told him? How to you explain to him that those bruises were actuall..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1369192/</link>
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			<title>#002: You&amp;rsquo;re A Pathetic Swine Without Her</title>
			<description>	&amp;ldquo;Ferdinand can I draw on your leg?&amp;rdquo; Casimir said sheepishly sitting at the end of my hospital bed. I tried to steady out my breathing but there wasn&amp;rsquo;t much I could do. The pain was too much for me. My head was swimming with thought and it was quickly drowning out anything logical...</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1368622/</link>
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			<title>#001: Casimir Found Happiness A Sunday Morning</title>
			<description>DEATH BY IMPRUDENCE wasn&amp;rsquo;t a really proper shirt to be wearing to a Church service, but it was all I had on a short notice. Of course I had caught the attention of everyone in town that Sunday morning, from the women who used to bake me terrible cookies when I was a child, down to the girls wh..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1368604/</link>
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			<title>A Gift For Casimir</title>
			<description></description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1368603/</link>
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			<title>Albatross</title>
			<description>Throw me in a roomwith no walls andI&amp;rsquo;ll never find my way out,without the drugs you washinto my brain in hopes of alleviatingthe painful truththat is the reality.The very reality youtried so hard to hidefrom me.Because you knewI would take awaythe albatross andcarry it on my shouldersuntil I w..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1366317/</link>
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			<title>Choke Me</title>
			<description>Choke me with your kiss,and f**k me&amp;lsquo;till my heart stopsbeating to the soundof your breathing.Lay waste to your mind,and your soft skin against my soul,until the sun is goneand sadness is no morehere than there.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1366313/</link>
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			<title>Chapter 2</title>
			<description>CHAPTER 2:	&amp;ldquo;Emma Llewellyn Piper, age 24. College student, works for an editing company. No criminal record. No.juvenile record.&amp;rdquo; Prescot threw the file onto the table and grimaced quietly rubbing his thick fingers against his temples. He stared at the picture of Emma briefly examining t..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1364467/</link>
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			<title>Chapter 1</title>
			<description>CHAPTER 1	&amp;ldquo;Sawyer, we&amp;rsquo;re running out of time. I thought you said--&amp;rdquo;&amp;ldquo;Dude chill,&amp;rdquo; He stammered, fingers locked around several other bags. &amp;ldquo;It&amp;rsquo;s just the essentials. Besides, we&amp;rsquo;re going to need a decent amount of clothes if were going to be traveling ar..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1364466/</link>
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			<title>Prolouge</title>
			<description>PROLOUGE:	&amp;ldquo;What is it you wanted from me exactly miss? I&amp;rsquo;m a very busy person you know.. and I don&amp;rsquo;t have much time to chat with just anyone who walks into my office.&amp;rdquo; he grunted. Giving her the quick one-two look over he twitched his left eye aggravated and wrapped his finge..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1364465/</link>
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			<title>Sawyer Lytham</title>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1364453/</link>
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			<title>Sleep</title>
			<description>I liked to sit herewith you andwander my thoughts,my thoughts I forgot at age twenty-twowhen my body wasdead and my brain was too,on bad that afternoonI sat with youand thought&amp;hellip;Is there no escape?No escape from my skinno escape from my fatemy heart ripped in twomy tongue, my brainone lung or ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wh_ites/1358858/</link>
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