The Writer's Cafe
The air is smoky and sweet as you step into the Writer's Cafe. Figures, obscured by smoke, look up, and back down again as you find your way to the stage door.
Inside, the Host, Cosmix, meets you, and hands you a pamphlet.
It reads: Welcome to the Writer's Cafe. This is an ongoing gallery of works by the Hostess, me, and all the people that manage to visit my humble abode. Any genre is accepted, as long as the work is not containing obscenity or vulgarity.
Send any and every work to my email address, along with any name you wish to write under for the Cafe. Thanks! :)
Submissions
Shards
Splinters of my soul
Shattered fragments
Cannot you see
All the pieces
Left of me
Anonymous!
The Log House
The fireplace crackles contentedly
The smoke curls up in gray tendrils
I sip my cocoa and watch...
Watch the snow descend
In sheets of carefully kept white
Somewhere someone sings
A dog is barking
And I
I am in the Log House.
Knack
Go back to the start.
Email: silver89@hotmail.com
