http://slow.writerscafe.org/Zorba3150 The original writings of author Perry en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775974879 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Sad, dessicated little flowerAh--a tidy dose of Typhoid Mary.I choked down your shroomyCaps while thriving on your roots.But you rubbed me wrong!Rushing through our final actWith your stingy embraces. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2947759/ Upon Desponia’s return from the walls, she spottedLuminita handing sugared almonds to a group of children. Desponia caught one ofthe gypsy’s arms and the children scattered.“Come, Luminita, we’ve unfinished businesswith Maria and her assistants.”Meanwhile,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2939293/ Rufus said his prayers as we pushed himout the boxcar door. He hung up ina barbwire coil, and we clattered downthe track. We spooned up all hisbeans, then smoked up his tobacco.We tore his bedroll and found nothing,yellowed letters, a picture of his Pa,and shame before God, who judgedus on those scr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2938103/ The sun climbed over the horizon, lighting plains of maize that leaned to her light.  Falcons dove through the cloud break, pursuing seed-snatching sparrows.The village workers, arriving from Medias, stood in the shadow of the fortress, waiting to be summoned.Ehrlich climbed a rampart ladd.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2938041/ “Very well,” Vlad said. Let's return to thelibrary first. I have studies to finish. Afterward, I’ll have Ehrlich prepare acarriage.  We’ll go for this gypsy girl together. I need blood tonight.” A short time after leaving the library, theywaited for their.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2937394/  He strode the battlements of his Carpathianfortress. A silver moon cast him in monochrome shadow as he glanced over theparapets and down the curtain walls to the craggy trenches below. Thecastle towers, armed with cannons, rose high above. The courtyard, the castle’skeep.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2937391/ Having defeated the Saxons, Vlad and the warlike goddess, Desponia, plan adventures. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2937389/ Conrad, you old schooner, sent from your cove,Of wayward souls, your hero braved an ocean,Then drifted past a shoal. Now, landing on aShanghaied beach, he trekked into the wasteland,Where choking plumes of ash rained dreadfullyOn the columns. And death did cheer and taste theSeeds of woe that reaked.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2936239/ Flash fiction http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2936110/ poem http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2935983/ A girl thinks she's lost her niece in the forest. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2935209/ Sharp like obsidian, I can dress my best and thrill youor pull on a hoodie, and I'mnothing to see. Booze, jewels, and private jetsare for suckers and players likethe ones seated around me, especially this guy--the one inthe calfskin loafers. Spelling outMississippi takes longer than h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2934742/ She sat at her vanity,her breasts swaying likethe bells of Notre Dame.A floorboard creaked in thedarkened hall. She smiledand stroked her raven hairwith boar bristles.“Did you come to taste?”she asked. “I won’t be stingy.” http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2934550/ A holocaust survivor goes shopping. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2934497/ A magical gypsy changes a farmer's life. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2934390/ Young Albert taped a sign tohis fold-out table and set iton the sidewalk.Lemonade 5 cents. Tulips andtoads are free to a good home. A passing woman dropped a nickel on the table. Albert poured her lemonade and held it out along with a tulip. "Flowers are alone," said Albert. "I know," replied the wo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2934283/ The second coming http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2934095/ poem http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2933713/ From a conversation with a sailor. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2933513/ Sparrows making use of coffeeshop patios and rain puddlesare of a certain disposition.The former are crumb drivenwhile the latter are flustered,wet, and more bullet proof thanengine blocks. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2933449/ Our carriage rolled along a narrow street, rumbling over cobblestones, passing signsthat creaked in the alpine breeze and streetlampflickers. The midnight sky and its crush ofstars glowed, a distance beyond the whisperof my prayers.Aphrodite gazed at me solemnly, saying, "I have great pity.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2933173/ The hours I spend watching seasons from my windowhave increased of late.Today, my sister, Felice, cameto my chamber, saying:"Gregory, the gate needs oiling.""Gregory, the roof is in disrepair."Disrepair? I should think so,yet I am loathe to leave this garden bower and the thrillof its fune.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2932893/ Whaler's wives have risen for their husbands,lost at sea, then hastened from that churchyard,and to December's beach. To keep once more the widow'swatch, so wistfully they waited,with flagging hopes and splintered hearts,and rainfall on their prayer books.Then tears upon their caskets,laid low .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2932854/ flash http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2932702/ poem http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2931865/ Poem http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2931575/ Not to return, she left her pailupon the glistening sand, thencrashed into the surging break,and all its dazzling spray.When hearing father's voice call out,she struggles for the shore. But riptide bound, she finds herself pulled to the coral edges. Where sharksdo dwell and paint the foam .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2931374/ Tastier than a poached mothball,beautiful Miranda, statuesque, withChina-doll features and tumbling hairwas the First Chair at our mother'sbreakfast table.I had my oatmeal and silent resentment. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2931190/ I’m better when you do notpresume me an honorable man.You, with your breeding, youralpine beauty and pluck,are symphonically designed.And I am nothing better than a rat.Yesterday, in Reykjavik, the windput pink in your porcelain features.Today, you’ve dressed in assortments,flashbulb smi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2931081/  They laid me to rest in Lady Forest, under a carpet of needles and rootsthat rub me. All the summer she spoke to me in lush tones,and finally, emblazoned my hairwith fall palettes.Of a winter, her ice-covered arms reached to embrace me.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2930960/ Pretty, pretty Filipina had straight hairand a bad upbringing.She had fertile effervescence.She knew how to smile and talk,and thread needles. And she knew how to shake it--taut likea dodgeball.She liked vinyl booths, tiny bites,sugar packets, and seedy bars.She liked Couture and Manolo Blahnik.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2930727/ She stood on Stonington Point, looking seaward to Long Island Sound. A shore breeze lifted her hair. Eddies swirled, and Stephanie remembered. The man had blond curls and strong hands. He'd dressed simply: brown khaki pants and a blue T-shirt.A ferry from Fisher's Island brought him. They'.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2930457/ I knew a girl with a clutching embrace,silky hands, and demons.  She’d had an endowment, a mother’s anguished love.She'd had the clap, and hepatitis at fourteen.She’d charmed the world with her tulips.her smiles--and the pistol in her purse.I flew to her flames, then.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2930282/ Captain Hook returns to Neverland. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Zorba3150/2930158/ I watched my grandmother die one night--just a little, but not for Chaplin, the oldboot. It was late. 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