http://slow.writerscafe.org/RagTagTyper The original writings of author Megan S. en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776033646 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 First day of school, and Leigh isn't looking forward to it. Isn't Senior year supposed to be fun? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/857964/ Leigh and Emma, a deaf kid and a rich girl... can they make some noise in their worlds of silence? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/857959/ Contest submission on another site. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/749250/ I was already“awake” when midnight rolled up to meet the world. Uploading didn’t take long,so I was good for about forty-eight hours. I wasn’t lucky enough to have beenplaced near woods, a lake, or anything to spark my wires into stimulation, butI went for a walk .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/744405/ I was finallyon my way, walking to the house I was staying at for this test. We found it waseasier to gain trust if the community felt comfortable with the people you werestaying with, so I had been put in the adoption agencies hands, and then intothose of the Harroldson’s.The .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/744234/ H i, I’m Mason.” Why was it thatevery time I was transferred to a new school, teachers made me stand up infront of the class and introduce myself? None of the kids cared. Or at least, allof the blank facial expressions they showed did not regi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/744230/ Mason. That’s what I was called these days. Mason Crenshaw. It usedto be One, but when they transferred me, they couldn’t really call me thatanymore. One was the name of a non-human. For each transfer I adopted adifferent name.Paris, France: Jack Carrington- Exchange Studen.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/744229/ Look in the note for reviewers!! This is an in progress story and the description isn't wonderful, but it's a working description for now. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/744225/ They say no child left behind... hmmm... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/723842/ A tribute to MichelleClay on this site. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/721444/ I'm thinkingAbout the last timeI was okay.Before the cancerThe nausea,The chemo of today.I'm thinkingOf how one dayI was so sureThen the next dayI'm screaming andHoping for a cureBecause chemoAnd radiation mayNot end up workingI couldEnd up dying andRemember nothing.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/716807/ A world I want to go to, but when I open my eyes at the end... It's back to following the same beat, same rhyme, same monotonous pace. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/715068/ That day, Mom got what she wanted. She passed on to, maybe, get to see her baby Adam. Four hours of Life Support, and I made Dad pull the plug. It wasn’t fair to keep her somewhere she obviously didn’t want to be.Then, with Connor by my side, I spoke up. “You’re just as dea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/704370/ Waking up Friday morning, though not easy, was simpler than my usual fight to keep from going back to sleep. It was a sad irony that now my dreams had become something I enjoyed, and I was sleeping less.My phone was lit up when I grabbed it. On the screen it was flashing the missed call, and I beg.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/704362/ When Connor asked me when I’d been most scared, I told him that story. We’d been walking for about two hours now, alternating from silence to telling childhood stories.It was a lie. Sure, before the miscarriage, that would have been true, but this was After. There was a distinctive lin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/704358/              When I was eight, I got a bicycle for my birthday. It was red, and I absolutely cherished it. My little fingers curled and uncurled around the handles as I pedaled down the sidewalk.I remember looking back and smiling at Mom,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/704354/ After yesterday, I found myself drawing more often, and I found myself drawn to the basketball gym again. It was likely to see me with music in my ears anyway, but now I found myself craving it.I had to remind myself that it had only been last night that Connor and I had sat and talked. We’d.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/704353/ The strong smell of cologne and perfume was choking me. Never had I liked the bus. For some kids, that’s the one time of the day they do their homework last minute, or finished their makeup.  In my mind, if I wanted to choke to death, I’d find a nice serial killer and let him do the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/704351/ Kayleigh ambushed me as soon as English was over. “He’s got a brother!” she told me so seriously that you’d think it was the one fact that could end global warming. Then again, to her it might.“His name is Chris. He’s in my last class, and he’s even better.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/704347/ My paper slipped to the desk lightly. Ms. Redd smiled as if she anticipated reading it, and it seemed slightly more real than the smiles she’d given the others. As I made my way back to my seat, a breath of wind exhaled into the classroom and ruffled my curls.The simple smile of content that.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/704343/ WHO ARE YOU?That was our writing prompt, and it glared out at all of us. The puke green marker squeaked as Ms. Redd cursed us with yet another unwanted assignment. Although a short, squat lady, she was the dominant teacher in the small school that had plopped itself in the middle of nowhere.Her .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/704341/ Everything used to be different. Now, when Ashton looks at her life, it's like looking at before and after pictures. The only thing separating them is the miscarriage. When will life be smiles again? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/704332/ Sitting acrossThe tableIs a manI never knewHe’s looking meIn the eyesI learnedThat his are blueHe says thatHe’s my fatherAnd he’s reallyGlad to seeThe wonderful Young womanThat I haveGrown to beBiological StrangersIs whatWe’ve becomeThis dayAnd that is allThat IReally haveIn .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/700130/ She should have been good, maybe then mom wouldn't have told me to kill her... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/690322/ Ever woken up bound to a pole, wondering who your kidnapper was? Welcome to the last five minutes of his life.... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/689868/ Just a story of love, and what happens when a soldier goes off to war and leaves a newly pregnant, teen mother... What if he never knew he had a kid? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/689863/ Three friends wake up after a night out in a room, chained up and scared... Now its just down to one girl. What will happen? Could she die too? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/RagTagTyper/688151/