http://slow.writerscafe.org/brookey_renae The original writings of author brookey_renae en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776028632 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 This is a short-story that I wrote for an American Literature class a couple semesters ago. It is based on/inspired by the story "The Tell-Tale Heart" by Edgar Allan Poe. I'm pretty proud of it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/brookey_renae/2014049/ what is in a mind?white space and black inkor maybe theindigo butterflies coming from the North.time stopping-- ending;thoughts that tumble, so intertwined,that you won't catch if you blink.seethe single gladiolus covered in birdlime--chimes from Heaven, ascending-- never ending--what is in a m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/brookey_renae/1972440/ based off of Stephen King's "It" http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/brookey_renae/1972329/ Barren brick on broken logsShe stands-- clustered-- deep space--The taste of lilac on her tongueBreathing-- an iron lung--As she fights to tame the London fogs,Forever haunted in this Hollowed place.How often can one survive many flogsFrom the decaying fire lace?Her cries for help cannot remain unsu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/brookey_renae/1971868/ "Three knocks." Tom held tight to Lora's shoulders. "Three knocks, answer the door. One or two knocks, lock it. Do you understand? Lora, I need you to- look at me- I need you to tell me you understand. Please- Look, Lora, this is important, okay? Three knocks; it never does three, but it will do mo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/brookey_renae/1952465/ I wish, I wishand sighdreaming of your kissthat made me highI wish, I wishyou could look me in the eyebring me into blisswith my heart ampliphiedI wish, I wishyou would return from the skyfor God took you too soon, alas,who am I to denya widow's last wish? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/brookey_renae/1952464/ Frank, why are we doing this?The water main was one thing.That piece of s**t Cunningham is Cunning-gone.So that was good.But noone cares.They don't know that it's us who are saving them.They wouldn't give a s**t anyway.F**k.Why are we doing this, Frank? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/brookey_renae/1952418/ Frank.In the dark,with a grin under your mask.The taste of salt dripping from youreye.And ears as long asmy dick. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/brookey_renae/1952416/ Donnie Darko gives me a lot of feelings. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/brookey_renae/1952414/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/brookey_renae/1952413/ Inspired by the leaked clip of Pennywise talking to Georgie in the new adaptation of Stephen King's "It" novel. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/brookey_renae/1952411/ Way off on the north side of the East Coast, there was a small fishing town that was not well known in the state of Maine. Hidden by a barbarian forest of aspen trees and sugar maples, divided by a branched off stream of the Saint John River, the town had a population of approximately two.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/brookey_renae/1951841/ Nikki Harmon had always been a bit strange; the depths of her oddities, however, go much further than any local in the small town of Pool could ever speculate. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/brookey_renae/1951534/ if you awake in the dark,do not be afraid. it is important that you think of me in timeswhen your heart screams.there is no light there, but,do not be afraid.because I am here. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/brookey_renae/1951529/ sometimes I dream that I'm okay.I eat dinner at the tableand let them play in my roommaybe she gives me the last browniethen he will turn on the newswhile mom holds my hand as we sit on the couch.but then I wake up. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/brookey_renae/1951527/ what if I told youthat I see shadows in the lightbe it day or nightI can see themand hear themas they whisperthe ghosts of their breath enveloping memaking my skin burn from the coldbut I do not diebecause I am the shadowsthat no one else seesin the broad light of the times http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/brookey_renae/1951524/