<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<rss version="2.0">
	<channel>
		<title>Karah | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/Karah</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Karah</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
		<lastBuildDate>1776229373</lastBuildDate>
		<generator>WritersCafe.org RSS Generator</generator>
		<ttl>15</ttl>
		<item>
			<title>My Anna</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Walking into my closet, I sighed deeply, scanning the two feet of space I had reserved for all of my dresses.&amp;nbsp; I had too many thoughts going through my head to care about the clothes I wore that night, as long as it was a dress and it was clean--it had to be a dress bec..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Karah/762393/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Short Tales Versus Novels</title>
			<description>Do I like explication?  Oui.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Karah/743730/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Still Moment of Meaning</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I ran my hand over the stones of the house; the rustling of branches overhead made the moonlight flicker softly over their irregular surfaces.&amp;nbsp; I had run away in the middle of the night from the town with its bustling, empty life because I wanted to lose myself in som..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Karah/735169/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>The Living Unknown Soldier</title>
			<description>Came about as a result of reading the tragic story of &quot;Anthelme Mangin,&quot; the Frenchman repatriated from Germany near the end of WWI--more willing to be oblivious than to remember past horrors.  </description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Karah/732463/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Days Past, in the Present</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Anthony leaned against the porch railing, contemplating the warm haze which lay over the countryside.&amp;nbsp; He despised it: it made him feel as though he were trapped under a smothering blanket.&amp;nbsp; The stillness of it frustrated him, made him feel both restless and lazy a..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Karah/730083/</link>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>