http://slow.writerscafe.org/smkrwt The original writings of author smkrwt en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776235564 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 To be alive is to believein everything you could conceiveTo believe is to be a lieignoring truths until you dieTo be a lie is to be aliveand faced with hardship, you still thrive http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/783297/ Running.     Faster than the moon. Faster than the dark. Faster than the night itself.     As fast as I possibly can.     For as long as I can.     Until my feet are bleeding. And even then. Even faster.  &nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/782767/ "The more you know, the more you know you don't know."--Aristotle     I know why I'm here. There are a million reasons--which is just another way of saying there are a million excuses--why I do what I do, least of which is because what I do is right. But I'm not here to talk abou.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/769606/ A writer writes and writes and writesor so I was told throughout last nighta writer writes, and writes some moretil the dreams stop tapping at her doorWriters right rights and right wrongswriters write plays and poems and songsbut storytellers do it differently, I hearthe unwrap truths, and lies, an.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/769585/ Crush the croneof rag and boneand follow children through the treesplaying gamesand calling namesof red cross'd knight on bended kneeToil and troublethrough the rubbleof vermin newly sanctifiedwhile flowers witherchildren shiver and demons all are glorified http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/769581/ It is not painful to live and dienot really, if you really tryalmost like a passing sighlike a deep breath after you cryWhere do you go when you die?Is it a place built up on high?Or is it far, far undergroundwithout sight or scent or sound?Or is it someplace in betweena chasm unfolding like a dream.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/769576/      The sun is bright and the air is fresh. There is still a sliver of moon left in the light blue sky, on the wane, which I guess means I have less than a month left before I have to fear that everybody else in the world was turned into werewolves and not lifted into heaven. I .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/765569/      The one thing I miss about the world before this weird rapture thingy--and I mean something I really miss--is the radio. It was such a nifty invention--a person could be driving along, bored out of their freakin mind and then, with a click of a button, have their world fille.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/763884/      A year and a half ago there were 9.5 billion people who inhabited the earth. 9.5 billion people. Overpopulation of the planet had led many government agencies across the globe to investigate the possibilities of residential space programs. Other, smaller, and more primitive .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/757262/ She'll get you. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/743073/ Arrive. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/738338/ I am that I am http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/724663/ Vampires. Zombies. End of the world crap. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/723526/ A mortuary. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/717723/ A discussion. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/717432/ The morning after. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/717408/ A dinner. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/708146/ A phone call. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/708144/ An introduction. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/708143/ What her days consist of. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/708141/ A retired investigative journalist goes on the hunt for ghostly creatures. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/708140/ oh, those damn curtains. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/705766/ are you going to believe their lies? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/705759/ They say that curiosity killed the catBut I know it’s so much more than thatThe painted lady singsAbout a million different kinds of thingsExcept for curiosity--and things like that http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/701330/ girls and ghosts. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/701319/ Caught. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/701301/ Approach. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/701281/ Awake. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/701280/ Trade. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/701277/ Leaving. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/701276/ What next. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/701273/ Home. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/701271/ Hotels. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/701269/ Drive. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/701258/ Getaway. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/701251/ Escape. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/700740/ Introduction. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/700737/ Sometimes violence IS the answer. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smkrwt/700735/