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		<title>Russe Salome | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/Russe%20Salome</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Russe Salome</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>Crush</title>
			<description>&amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;m surprised to see you here.&amp;rdquo;&amp;nbsp; Cass offered his hand to the man standing inthe doorway, only sparing a short glance to the white horns that jutted out ofhis forehead and then curved along crown before pointing upwards.&amp;nbsp; Then he smiled in his pleasant business way..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Russe-Salome/804393/</link>
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			<title>A First Kiss</title>
			<description>&amp;ldquo;You don&amp;rsquo;t remember when Mom said she&amp;rsquo;d be home, doyou?&amp;rdquo;&amp;nbsp; Merilin looked over at Joshua andpressed her lips together like she did when she was unsure of herself.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;ldquo;She sa..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Russe-Salome/803642/</link>
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			<title>Soft Parting</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Cassand Azzie lay next to each other on the roof of the Crystal Hall.&amp;nbsp; Though winter had already begun to sneaknear--the ever-extending thistlevine moors that surrounded the temple in a swirlof scarlet bending to the biting bree..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Russe-Salome/803256/</link>
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			<title>Penis Envy</title>
			<description>My favorite girl said,&amp;ldquo;In my past life,I was a man.&amp;rdquo;And she told me howshe rememberedwhat her c**k looked likeand how she&amp;rsquo;d sometimes lickher own cum from her fingersto prove somethingto herself&amp;hellip;himself.&amp;ldquo;No different,&amp;rdquo;she said, &amp;ldquo;th..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Russe-Salome/798396/</link>
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			<title>Teeth, Tongue, True Love</title>
			<description>You kiss me like a stab wound.The ripped mouth convulses-dripping-and the red stainsare sweet in me.So when we kiss,we&amp;rsquo;re bruising.The love festersunder skin,the thin boundary betweenour blood.Just a peel awayand my insides couldtanglewith you.Our knotsslip toge..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Russe-Salome/797920/</link>
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			<title>The Hotel: A Reply</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;In thethreadbare lobby of the Kirschgarten Hotel, Mohogan leaned over the front desk,which was once a grand counter topped with polished granite flecked with gold,but the white-painted wood now was chipped down and stung with the aft..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Russe-Salome/797241/</link>
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			<title>The Moors: A Rescue</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Theworld was dark.&amp;nbsp; It had been long sincethe skies deepened from the bright blue to a foggy purple, a haze for thebloodred sun to wearily roll across the godless heavens.&amp;nbsp; In the North, the once spritely winds thatscatte..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Russe-Salome/797236/</link>
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			<title>Glass Threads</title>
			<description>On a dying planet where disease is overtaking and killing, Doctor Mohogan Driscol is the only one who can free these victims from the slow death manifested by their own twisted fantasies.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Russe-Salome/797235/</link>
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			<title>Developments</title>
			<description>Children grow, but usually not like this.  </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Russe-Salome/797175/</link>
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			<title>Hunter</title>
			<description>&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;ldquo;So ifyou bit me,&amp;rdquo; she asked, now pushing gently down on his tongue with her fingers,&amp;ldquo;would I turn into one of you?&amp;rdquo;&amp;nbsp; Helaughed and gave her painted nails one last suckle before her fingers poppedfrom p..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Russe-Salome/796552/</link>
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