http://slow.writerscafe.org/Rachelferguson88 The original writings of author RachelWroteIt en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776002396 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I was not spoon fed love and so, I am afraid, I do not know What it is supposed to taste like.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2151349/ I walk away From things and people Who don’t fill me with vision, Regardless of who they might be.  I walk away, Because I don’t need That kind of s**t in my life. I don’t need that kind of discord. I don’t need it, And I .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2147503/ The Writer  I once tried to explain To another person What it was like to write stories.  You see, he never had written A story- a real story. All the things he wrote Were just facts and numbersAnd it was very dry, and no one liked it, Even thoug.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2147448/ Some secrets are right there in the open.  They are so secret and so forbidden that the best way to hide them is by leaving them out in the open, where anyone who cared to look might see them, but they don't recognize them for what they are because they seem too commonplace. It is in this way t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145874/ Everyone knows that stealing a horse is a hanging crime.  A horse is life or death to man, and to take his horse is to sentence him to death.   Because of this, most men respect and care for their horses, understanding that they are their keepers, and appreciating their value.  But of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145873/ Once upon a time there was a little girl with long blond hair who lived on a little farm with her father and mother and three laying hens, a pair of goats, and a little cow.   The little girl churned the butter, and collected the eggs, and took them down to the market to sell them for her mothe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145872/ Let me tell you all the truth about being a parent �" You aregoing to f**k up.  There.  There itis.  You �" yes, you, well-meaning motheror father, you are going to f**k up beyond all imagining.  You are going to scar your darling son ordau.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145799/ PROLOGUE  All the beststories start out with “once upon a time” and this story is no different. Onceupon a time, in a small village that was halfway between the tall craggymountains and the warm and sparkling sea, there lived a woman. The woman wassmall and spritely,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145798/ A book of fairy tales for the writer's children http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145797/ A fairy tale written for the author's own daughter. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145796/ Dedicated to the author's youngest son http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145795/ The worst thing about being a woman Is being told that others think you are beautiful. But the minute you believe them, The world retracts that edict.  And god forbid a woman think she’s beautiful Without the consent of the world.  That’s the tal.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145794/ Every one of us is dropped into a family More or less at random. Maybe you’re cherished. Maybe you’re the youngest of nine and less than a blessing.  Maybe your parents wanted a boy, and you’re not. Or a girl and you’re not. &nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145793/ A poem dedicated to the author's eldest son. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145792/ Cameras are everywhereI hold one in my hand every day.A magic camera that takes image after image and frameafter frame- We all have it.So do you.I use mine.I take pictures of my children.Of my daughter’s tiny red tufted pigtails.Of my son’s cinnamon freckles.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145791/  The best kind of love I’ve ever sharedIs a “Come as you are; it is what it is” kind of love. A love of “Let’s go!” And, “Not today”A love of “I can DO it!” And yet, “Can you help me?” A love of .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145789/ I want to walk on the black volcanic beaches of Iceland. I want to stand in the blue, blue waters of Duborvnik. I want the wind to whip my voice away on the cliffs ofScotland. I want to feel the heat of an Australian desert on my skin.  I want to sleep in cottage surrounde.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145787/ The brutality of not belonging Leaves marks on a heart like a brand. When someone finds themselves placed Among strangers they’ve known all their lives- And yet.  They aren’t one of them.  And the collective involved look at the One And say, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145786/ You're crazy! Everyone has said it.  You have said it while laughing at a friend, you have said itwith an edge of trepidation as a love interestshow his true colors.   You've probablybeen called it.   But most people don't.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145785/ A person who grows up without Being fed Spoonfuls of love Lives in a world of questions.  Do they love me? Do they really? Am I loveable at all? Am I allowed to be here? Am I allowed to ask for what I need? Am I allowed to ask for what I want? Am I entitl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145784/ Have you ever walked the crowded streets of a city You don’t live it, alone? Do you feel the crush of bodies who don’t want to touch you And hear the buzz of voices not addressed to you? And your eyes take in all the buildings that mean nothing toyou?  This.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145783/  I am nothing you are. You are nothing I am. We have nothing in common And no common ground On which to stand.  There used to be sorrow There used to be anger Now there is nothing For me to hang on to.  So I’ll walk away .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145782/ One of the first hallmarks of adulthood Is the sinking realization that you can’t protect them. You can’t protect your children, your brothers and sisters, Your lovers, your parents or your friends.  You can’t protect them From the maliciously multiplyi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145781/ The last time is coming. Indeed, it is already nigh. And you do not know when The clock will tollThe door will shut The heart will stop.  You do not know.   You do not know the last time You hold your child on your hip- never to pick them.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145780/ There’s a sad and secret clubThat exists in plain sight of the world- And its members run in the millions, Stretching back centuries-It’s the Tarnished Daughter’s Club,For every golden boy, every Adonis, Every treasured and coveted son, There is a .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rachelferguson88/2145750/