http://slow.writerscafe.org/QuietWind19 The original writings of author Dylan S. en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776115280 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 In a matter of seconds, the elevatorcame down to my floor, the fifth floor, where I work in surveillance. Guys likeme are the scouts; we go out and look for anything suspicious, and we’reextremely possessive on what case we want to be in. We monitor and check-up onanything strange or w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/1281319/ I didn't have to puton work clothes, since I slept with them on. I stepped in front of the mirror,checking out what exactly Paul did to me. I looked for any scars on my face,any marks he left. He didn't do a single thing to me other than tucked me to bed.I straightened out my coat and shirt,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/1263950/ As Paul drives the gravi-car through the low-level traffic, my heart was still pounding away inside me, anticipating the next move, because right behind us was a...rat...human...whatever the hell that thing is...there was something behind us, unconscious and still. My hand held onto my gun, the fing.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/1241398/ Hyperion Security Force Building, August 24, 5629 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/1218502/ Solyssia, December 20, 5599 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/1212377/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/1211825/ For too long, I have called darkness home.I named it friend.I named it caretaker.I named it lover.I trusted only this black shade,shunning out all forms of light.For it seemed too easy. To be loved, to be cared for.I only truly loved myself.But even then, I beat myselfto a near-death submi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/1141099/ The hands of the many must join as one... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/1051888/ Over time, I've watched with weary eyes,and read the crying words of all around me.I've seen depressed faces with depressed eyes,all going through a crisis the mind throws at them. I have my own,I still trudge through the mud and sand,I cut through the branches,and brave the piercing wind.&nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/1046413/ My friends, my family,I write this with the last of my breath,the last iota of energy I have left in this world,though I doubt this parchment will be foundamong transient slums.This whole time I was gone, many of you put upwith the blossoming depression growing in my fertile mind.And through th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/1046408/ My friends, my family,I write this with the last of my breath,the last iota of energy I have left for this world.I write this, to tell you all the life I had,the life I devoutly prayed for in all my glory years.This whole time I was gone, many of you put upwith the blossoming depression growing in m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/1046404/ This isn't a fictional story, but a reflection of my past life. I decided not to use a poem because it's not...clear enough. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/1046303/ Losing it all... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/1042739/ Like a machine... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/1038555/ My first story-based poem... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/839842/ We can't help ourselves... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/839139/ So...probably at this point, you'll figure out that the only thing about love that I can talk of is the heartbreak afterwards...yeah, I'm lonely. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/830994/ In any second of your life,does your neck feel heavy?Does it feel like somethingis pulling you down?It's the misery and painyou have in your lifeweaved by devious little demonsfrom the pits of the Sloth.They prey on lives like this,dragging it downand hanging it upfor others to see.They think us spo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/827358/ The sun. They say it gives promise.It gives you a new day.Time you can invest in,devoting it to whatever you want. You wake, wake to the crow of the c**k,and you perform your actions as normal.You look forward to new time, new events,new friends, and new accomplishments.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/825434/ Is it sick to accept pain as a joke?To feel like the greatest of devastation,is seen as a personal trophy in your eyes?Where every missed chance of love,is another point in this ever-growing score?Every second without love,is another second of pain.And every second of pain,is another second of laugh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/823206/ Where will the stories be,in the years to come?Is it really up to us,the authors who love to spin a tale?Is it up to the artist, whose hand dances with the brush?Is it up to the singer,whose voice carries in the wind?Is it up to the dancers,those pretending to be energetic nymphs?Preservation i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/823198/ It's easy to forget.You do belong here, after all.at home,at the lands,at the sea,on the sky.But go out farther.What do you see?Many lights, much darkness,but the colors runacross the blackness.You do not belong there.But you did come from there.These are your pa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/822656/ The mind loves to dream...don't let it go into detail too much. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/821492/ Yeah...my mind loves to dream. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/821484/ I wish I could tell her.Tell her how much she means.To her friends, her family.To me. I wish I could tell herhow her quirky attitude,how her smile, her eyes, her voice,how everything about heris the greatest thing God has ever made.But I cannot,for distance sets us apart.I want to hold her in m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/818803/ Feelings inept, quiet.I lay quiet, solemn as the grave.My face frozen, stuck on the mirror.Emotions carry no honey anymore.The mind is empty, responses slow.Poke me with a stick, and I will not move.I lay quiet, paralyzed and hollow.The room undescriptive.Is it large? Is it small?The eyes can't see... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/818292/ Being on the journey of my life,I wonder where the bounty is in all of it.The treasure my soul longed for,the gold my hands yearned to cradle,the pleasure my heart throbs for.Yes, I have treasure,yes, I have gold,and yes, I have pleasure.But there's no value behind it.None at all.It was empty the mo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/818289/ It's always like this.Something good, something bad.Every day, I walk a gray path.Miles long, toward the running horizon.Gray sands, gray sky.Gray, gray, gray.Something delightful walks down the path.A little nymph adorned in a white dress,her hair golden and flowing in the wind,A smile bright .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/812483/ Star bright, star light.Wish upon this soul tonight.Old men, young friends.Pray to make amends.Make it here, store it there.The love from all your cares.Blissful love, fitting glove.Look up to see white doves.White snow, lasting glow.Winter's frozen, but you I know.Frozen water, frigid tow.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/812437/ How many steps have I walked away from that?That thing which nearly consumed me?It was such a journey,such a battle,such a conflict. Now that I think of it,I've never looked back.Never looked back at the Hell.But who's to blame?Was it me, for letting it go?Did it arrive on its own, and I couldn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/QuietWind19/811782/