http://slow.writerscafe.org/Big-Red The original writings of author Red en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776172973 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Short story of a non-descript job in Suffolk http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Big-Red/1431393/ Short story of a non-descript job in Suffolk http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Big-Red/1431390/ Free flowing prose from China, 2009-2011 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Big-Red/1429164/ The bright stars shone stubborn and severe above him.Screaming at his eyes to stare deeper, tearing through his cornea and deeperinto himself. The night was gloriously clear and bit into his cheeks and hisopen wide eyes. Clearer than he had seen in the years bet.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Big-Red/1428568/ He awoke the next day in his living room, the sceneunchanged from the morning before. His whole body was sore and the blood,although washed from his face the night before, still stained on his clothes.The first thing he could think of was shame and then the memo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Big-Red/1428567/ Down in the flats of the valley a weighty purring echoedamongst the wet vegetation and the earth feebly shivered. The birds flew fromtheir perches on the crooked telephone poles and ancient oaks up into thebrightening dawn sky. The fox, lonely and brave peered o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Big-Red/1428566/ Cory awoke the next morning to the sounds of the cockcrowsand a drift of fresh dawn air flowing through the front room window. Hestruggled to sit up and when he did, he stooped over with his elbows digginginto his thighs, hacking his throat. The room looked shab.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Big-Red/1428563/ When he woke up the sky was glowing through the crackedglass of the living room window, its final stand of the day forthcoming abovethe horizon. The sounds were dim and of birds singing, a distant hedge trimmer,lawn mower or chainsaw, occasional pop of a distant s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Big-Red/1428560/ Beep, beep, beep went the door as its two panes parted andlet the air fill the train. Outside on the platform, the redbrick of theVictorian station looked chipped and neglected, but nothing in comparison tothe picket wood roof leaning over the dirty concourse... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Big-Red/1428558/ The blood began to congeal as it flowed through the scrapesof the dusty desiccated floor. All the dams were ruptured or overwhelmed as thevermillion fluid built at their walls, overflowing and spilling into the nextchasm and flowing around and under fallen the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Big-Red/1428553/ Coming home in a changing age. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Big-Red/1428552/ A Lonely Mans CrimeA lonely mans crime:drop me north of the railway linesink me in the sap of the hilltop pinewrap my wrists with the baling twineIt’s just now and me, my lonely crimeOnly sun, mud and Timeand the tears, bitter as limedrips into the salt, the sweat, our brineI wish you listened.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Big-Red/1184106/ A short tale from the Gothic landscape of contemporary rural Suffolk - the land that the queen left behind. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Big-Red/1107848/