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		<title>Skal | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/Skal</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Skal</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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			<title>Fate</title>
			<description>I cracked a smile towards fate, a scorn you may suppose. All this years it lied to me...filled my head with unachievable dreams and delusions. It set me on a path that seemed too familiar. Made me imagine that if I kept track, the rewards were guaranteed...but see, I question. I always want to know ..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Skal/2166154/</link>
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			<title>A Fresh Feel</title>
			<description>In perfect unison. The harmony of two beating hearts. The assurance of love when distance scorns at us. The security of trust. The conviction of the mind. In every step the anecdotes of our journey. Activities brewing much but evenings bring us back. In our beds with a wish, that the next night migh..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Skal/2118916/</link>
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			<title>What We've Become</title>
			<description>We forgot what it felt like. We just imagine it, most of us doubt it's real. Our scars took too long to heal. Now we're on the balcony dreaming of it. Those that hurt us no longer matter, but that trust breached is what broke it. The generation of smilies while wiping real tears. When it's virtual w..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Skal/2118766/</link>
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			<title>That Feeling</title>
			<description>That feeling of a giant when you're looking down. That feeling of a midget when you're looking up. Every suppression of emotions that makes you bow. Every un-taken decision that messed you up.The missing currency in my pocket when I'm in town. The failing sense of my composure when I see a skirt..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Skal/2100544/</link>
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			<title>The Burnt Pictures</title>
			<description>Here beside my feet, lay the ashes of what has been, through the flames and dispensable heat, the torrid cold of burnt memories, only a minute sooner could I have saved the day, but now in gloom the price I pay, every photo in every frame, many tears many I blame, first my mom who lit the match, the..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Skal/2099405/</link>
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			<title>Set Dates</title>
			<description>Unexpected Expectations</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Skal/2098199/</link>
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