http://slow.writerscafe.org/Nambrosia The original writings of author S. J. Fisk en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776007151 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 This is pain. This is heartache. This the unbearable weight of living my Life the Lie. This is not what I should have become, this not where I should be. I am not who I am and I am not what they say I am.  I am confused when I used to be so certain, I falter where I used to be assured. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nambrosia/527778/ 10Quicksilverwas so named after an ancient settlers prize-winning racehorse thathad won its master enough gold to purchase the entire seven-milestretch of coastal property. The small town rested along the innercoast, nestled at the base of Cape Cod’s crooked finger. When the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nambrosia/490225/         The night air was an exact temperature of 52 degrees Fahrenheit. 'Crisp' by most people's judgement, and quickly descending to 'chilly'. The temperature had no affect on the couple relaxing at the end of the pier, other than to dictate ap.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nambrosia/475296/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nambrosia/475292/ Breath captured in my throat at the sight,Those eyes, piercing to my amber core.Falling yet again, tumbling towards the abyss.Hold me. Whisper those sweet wordsAgainst moist flesh.Teeth graze.  A hitch in my chest.Can’t think. Can’t rationalize.This is what I n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nambrosia/459566/ There is one main highway that travels down the center of the arm that makes up Cape Cod and although it wasn’t quite Tourist season, there should have been some traffic, but the long road remained barren. 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