http://slow.writerscafe.org/LeannaE The original writings of author LeannaE en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776214548 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15             We didn’t have much growing up, but we had space.  Life was great; we had eighty acres of woods and we ran pretty wild.  My brothers and I were always doing something.  Dad gave us plenty of work to do, such as weedin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/LeannaE/2843233/ His time on the island had lasted a millennium.  The plants in that place grew colorful, tasty fruit, that left his body in crippled knots for weeks.  He hadn’t a clue how the two men managed to discover him, but he wasn’t thinking too much about it at the time.&nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/LeannaE/2843230/ The man in the silly child suit walks through the arcade, bucket of quarters dangling from his chubby hand.He’s been wearing the suit since the day his parents stopped holding his hand, and all his playmates lost their enthusiasm.Everyone around him is a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/LeannaE/2843229/  As I allowed my boat to drift, I gazed toward the island in the distance.  I was certain this was the right place.  Taking courage, I dove into the shimmering water, and swam without hesitation to the entrance of the city, and knocked at the gate.  A pudgy face ap.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/LeannaE/2843227/ I sat on the couch, putting my legs on the ottoman in front of me.  I needed to bang out a good chunk of my research paper for biochemistry, or at least get a nice rough draft going.  My schedule was jam-packed with lab work, meetings, and exams, so this was the only time I coul.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/LeannaE/2843225/ You desire love, but can’t cook with a missing ingredient.  Instead, brew up a strong-hold that turns everything into a black maze of madness.Twist my words into serpents that slither around my feet.Then chop them up, one by one, and sizzle the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/LeannaE/2843222/ Moonlight is veiled by clouds, casting patterns over open grass.Cricket voices echo.Air begins to cool.The path I seek is marked by carvings on the knot of a tree,scratched into wood a long time ago.This is a ghost forest,undisturbed, dormant,and I follow an old path.As my eyes adjust,I be.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/LeannaE/2843221/