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<channel>
	<title>The Scroll of Rhondelough</title>
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	<link>http://transwriter.wordpress.com</link>
	<description>a writing blog</description>
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		<title>The Scroll of Rhondelough</title>
		<link>http://transwriter.wordpress.com</link>
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		<item>
		<title>A Ride in the Evening</title>
		<link>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/08/05/a-ride-in-the-evening/</link>
		<comments>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/08/05/a-ride-in-the-evening/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 05 Aug 2008 13:07:19 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Christie Belle</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poems]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://transwriter.wordpress.com/?p=114</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The concepts are all wrong you, with your fashionable beret perched lightly on your greasy hair and me, balking beneath my ball cap. We finally arrive even though you thought twice about it more than once And there we are laughing at nothing. And my Scrabble tiles had to be just so. I won that [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=transwriter.wordpress.com&amp;blog=530224&amp;post=114&amp;subd=transwriter&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>The concepts are all wrong<br />
you, with your fashionable beret<br />
perched lightly on your greasy hair<br />
and me, balking beneath my ball cap.</p>
<p>We finally arrive<br />
even though you thought twice about it<br />
more than once</p>
<p>And there we are<br />
laughing at nothing.<br />
And my Scrabble tiles had to be just so.<br />
I won that way.<br />
Why didn&#8217;t you care?</p>
<p>After sunset, riding home on our bicycles,<br />
I made you stay in the grass.<br />
The light &#8211; oh, a barely dim force -<br />
could not help you then.<br />
And the road was a far darker gray than you thought.</p>
<p>Didn&#8217;t I see you disappear within the lanes?<br />
Didn&#8217;t I see you vanish?<br />
Stop! Come onto the grass!<br />
We&#8217;re almost home.</p>
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			<media:title type="html">Christie Belle</media:title>
		</media:content>
	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Mikey &amp; Sara</title>
		<link>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/03/28/mikey-sara/</link>
		<comments>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/03/28/mikey-sara/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 28 Mar 2008 15:12:42 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Christie Belle</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Songwriting]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://transwriter.wordpress.com/?p=107</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Sara&#8217;s lying next to the fire She doesn&#8217;t care when she&#8217;s gonna die She&#8217;s only glad for today cuz she&#8217;s living She gets up from her place on the ground Brushes the dirt from her worn out jeans She sees him comin&#8217; near her But she ingores him And he says to her all those [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=transwriter.wordpress.com&amp;blog=530224&amp;post=107&amp;subd=transwriter&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Sara&#8217;s lying next to the fire<br />
She doesn&#8217;t care when she&#8217;s gonna die<br />
She&#8217;s only glad for today<br />
cuz she&#8217;s living</p>
<p>She gets up from her place on the ground<br />
Brushes the dirt from her worn out jeans<br />
She sees him comin&#8217; near her<br />
But she ingores him</p>
<p>And he says to her all those things that you&#8217;d expect to hear<br />
But those things don&#8217;t mean a thing unless he&#8217;s listening</p>
<p>Mikey&#8217;s finally letting go<br />
But his warm heart keeps him hopeful<br />
He&#8217;s got a long long way to go<br />
if she&#8217;s leaving</p>
<p>And she is going but it&#8217;s not where<br />
Oh so quickly down deep dark despair<br />
Can he lift her out of<br />
the darkness</p>
<p>So he says to her all those things that you&#8217;d like to hear<br />
&#8217;bout how she&#8217;s more beautiful than a bird&#8217;s song</p>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
		<media:content url="http://0.gravatar.com/avatar/2c3ab232e74c81e601dd63c03ec3d98a?s=96&#38;d=identicon&#38;r=G" medium="image">
			<media:title type="html">Christie Belle</media:title>
		</media:content>
	</item>
		<item>
		<title>2 Stories by David</title>
		<link>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/24/2-stories-by-david/</link>
		<comments>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/24/2-stories-by-david/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 24 Jan 2008 16:39:34 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Christie Belle</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[50 Word Stories - Submitted by Various Writers]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/24/2-stories-by-david/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[In The Beginning Todd, Josh, and Holly were always the best at everything. They invented angles and hummus. Two thirds of angles remained acute; the other third became obtuse; and none were right angles. Two thirds of the hummus became cheesy; the other third became plain; and none was garlic and herb hummus. In The [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=transwriter.wordpress.com&amp;blog=530224&amp;post=103&amp;subd=transwriter&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>In The Beginning</p>
<p>Todd, Josh, and Holly were always the best at everything. They invented angles and hummus. Two thirds of angles remained acute; the other third became obtuse; and none were right angles. Two thirds of the hummus became cheesy; the other third became plain; and none was garlic and herb hummus.</p>
<p>In The End</p>
<p>Todd bent all obtuse angles reflex and sent Josh to prepare the hummus. He added garlic and herbs to the cheesy hummus and sent Holly to cook Paninis at 90 degrees. Plain hummus is useless. The Paninis gave reflex angles the third degree and they were burned with plain hummus.</p>
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			<media:title type="html">Christie Belle</media:title>
		</media:content>
	</item>
		<item>
		<title>True Love by Robin</title>
		<link>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/22/true-love-by-robin/</link>
		<comments>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/22/true-love-by-robin/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 22 Jan 2008 05:57:01 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Christie Belle</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[50 Word Stories - Submitted by Various Writers]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/22/true-love-by-robin/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[She told him she wanted to marry him. He laughed and told her he was sure she would find someone better. She laughed at that funny idea. He told her he loved her. She got quiet. He offered her ice cream. The world of daughter and daddy was whole again.<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=transwriter.wordpress.com&amp;blog=530224&amp;post=102&amp;subd=transwriter&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>She told him she wanted to marry him. He laughed and told her he was sure she would find someone better. She laughed at that funny idea. He told her he loved her. She got quiet. He offered her ice cream. The world of daughter and daddy was whole again.</p>
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		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
	
		<media:content url="http://0.gravatar.com/avatar/2c3ab232e74c81e601dd63c03ec3d98a?s=96&#38;d=identicon&#38;r=G" medium="image">
			<media:title type="html">Christie Belle</media:title>
		</media:content>
	</item>
		<item>
		<title>A Snake Passed Through by Robin</title>
		<link>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/22/a-snake-passed-through-by-robin/</link>
		<comments>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/22/a-snake-passed-through-by-robin/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 22 Jan 2008 05:56:22 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Christie Belle</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[50 Word Stories - Submitted by Various Writers]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/22/a-snake-passed-through-by-robin/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[A snake passed through the yard near him and he watched it move without being afraid. He hid when his mother passed that same way. Looking out from behind the bush as she passed, he hoped the snake was still nearby. It seems the snake was hiding from her too.<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=transwriter.wordpress.com&amp;blog=530224&amp;post=101&amp;subd=transwriter&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>A snake passed through the yard near him and he watched it move without being afraid. He hid when his mother passed that same way. Looking out from behind the bush as she passed, he hoped the snake was still nearby. It seems the snake was hiding from her too.</p>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">Christie Belle</media:title>
		</media:content>
	</item>
		<item>
		<title>It&#8217;s the Way Things Go, Most Times by Michael</title>
		<link>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/19/its-the-way-things-go-most-times-by-michael/</link>
		<comments>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/19/its-the-way-things-go-most-times-by-michael/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 19 Jan 2008 05:08:31 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Christie Belle</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[50 Word Stories - Submitted by Various Writers]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/19/its-the-way-things-go-most-times-by-michael/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Susan stroked the tabby&#8217;s tufted back. He nuzzled his little bullet head into her jeans. Then he twisted onto his back, all frantic, searching claws and kicking legs. She let her hand go limp, and he glared up at her, suddenly still, ears back. She stroke him some more, anyway.<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=transwriter.wordpress.com&amp;blog=530224&amp;post=100&amp;subd=transwriter&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Susan stroked the tabby&#8217;s tufted back.<span> </span>He nuzzled his little bullet head into her jeans. <span></span>Then he twisted onto his back, all frantic, searching claws and kicking legs.<span> </span>She let her hand go limp, and he glared up at her, suddenly still, ears back.</p>
<p>She stroke him some more, anyway.</p>
<br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/categories/transwriter.wordpress.com/100/" /> <img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/tags/transwriter.wordpress.com/100/" /> <a rel="nofollow" href="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/gocomments/transwriter.wordpress.com/100/"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/comments/transwriter.wordpress.com/100/" /></a> <a rel="nofollow" href="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/godelicious/transwriter.wordpress.com/100/"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/delicious/transwriter.wordpress.com/100/" /></a> <a rel="nofollow" href="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/gofacebook/transwriter.wordpress.com/100/"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/facebook/transwriter.wordpress.com/100/" /></a> <a rel="nofollow" href="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/gotwitter/transwriter.wordpress.com/100/"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/twitter/transwriter.wordpress.com/100/" /></a> <a rel="nofollow" href="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/gostumble/transwriter.wordpress.com/100/"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/stumble/transwriter.wordpress.com/100/" /></a> <a rel="nofollow" href="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/godigg/transwriter.wordpress.com/100/"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/digg/transwriter.wordpress.com/100/" /></a> <a rel="nofollow" href="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/goreddit/transwriter.wordpress.com/100/"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/reddit/transwriter.wordpress.com/100/" /></a> <img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=transwriter.wordpress.com&amp;blog=530224&amp;post=100&amp;subd=transwriter&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></content:encoded>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">Christie Belle</media:title>
		</media:content>
	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Death came on a Wednesday by Sarah</title>
		<link>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/19/death-came-on-a-wednesday-by-sarah/</link>
		<comments>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/19/death-came-on-a-wednesday-by-sarah/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 19 Jan 2008 05:08:15 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Christie Belle</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[50 Word Stories - Submitted by Various Writers]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/19/death-came-on-a-wednesday-by-sarah/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[This story isn’t long, because I found it as it was ending. By the time that we got there, the wailers had dried their tears and hidden their laments. We were forced to cry two minutes too late, and the falling snow failed to lift the corners of our mouths.<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=transwriter.wordpress.com&amp;blog=530224&amp;post=99&amp;subd=transwriter&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3"><span style="font-size:12pt;">This story isn’t long, because I found it as it was ending.  By the time that we got there, the wailers had dried their tears and hidden their laments.  We were forced to cry two minutes too late, and the falling snow failed to lift the corners of our mouths.</span></font></p>
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			<media:title type="html">Christie Belle</media:title>
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		<title>An Unfortunate Situation by Adam</title>
		<link>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/19/an-unfortunate-situation-by-adam/</link>
		<comments>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/19/an-unfortunate-situation-by-adam/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 19 Jan 2008 05:07:54 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Christie Belle</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[50 Word Stories - Submitted by Various Writers]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/19/an-unfortunate-situation-by-adam/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I crept through the woods, bb gun in hand, wishing to make a trophy out of a squirrel. I saw one scurry across the tree limbs, and fall into the dry brown leaves. As he ran I took a shot at him. I missed it and hit a hibernating bear!<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=transwriter.wordpress.com&amp;blog=530224&amp;post=98&amp;subd=transwriter&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I crept through the woods, bb gun in hand, wishing to make a trophy out of a squirrel. I saw one scurry across the tree limbs, and fall into the dry brown leaves. As he ran I took a shot at him. I missed it and hit a hibernating bear!</p>
<br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/categories/transwriter.wordpress.com/98/" /> <img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/tags/transwriter.wordpress.com/98/" /> <a rel="nofollow" href="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/gocomments/transwriter.wordpress.com/98/"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/comments/transwriter.wordpress.com/98/" /></a> <a rel="nofollow" href="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/godelicious/transwriter.wordpress.com/98/"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/delicious/transwriter.wordpress.com/98/" /></a> <a rel="nofollow" href="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/gofacebook/transwriter.wordpress.com/98/"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/facebook/transwriter.wordpress.com/98/" /></a> <a rel="nofollow" href="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/gotwitter/transwriter.wordpress.com/98/"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/twitter/transwriter.wordpress.com/98/" /></a> <a rel="nofollow" href="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/gostumble/transwriter.wordpress.com/98/"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/stumble/transwriter.wordpress.com/98/" /></a> <a rel="nofollow" href="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/godigg/transwriter.wordpress.com/98/"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/digg/transwriter.wordpress.com/98/" /></a> <a rel="nofollow" href="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/goreddit/transwriter.wordpress.com/98/"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://feeds.wordpress.com/1.0/reddit/transwriter.wordpress.com/98/" /></a> <img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=transwriter.wordpress.com&amp;blog=530224&amp;post=98&amp;subd=transwriter&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></content:encoded>
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			<media:title type="html">Christie Belle</media:title>
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		<title>The Guest by Jenni</title>
		<link>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/19/the-guest-by-jenni/</link>
		<comments>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/19/the-guest-by-jenni/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 19 Jan 2008 05:07:34 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Christie Belle</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[50 Word Stories - Submitted by Various Writers]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/19/the-guest-by-jenni/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[You. Me. A bottle of merlot. I know it’s not your type, but it’s all I’ve got. A bottle of merlot and questions I’ve been saving for your return. I guess I had more than I thought I did. But you knew that, didn’t you? Cheers. So why did you…?<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=transwriter.wordpress.com&amp;blog=530224&amp;post=97&amp;subd=transwriter&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p style="margin-bottom:0;" class="western" align="left">You. Me. A bottle of merlot. I know it’s not your type, but it’s all I’ve got. A bottle of merlot and questions I’ve been saving for your return. I guess I had more than I thought I did. But you knew that, didn’t you? Cheers. So why did you…?</p>
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			<media:title type="html">Christie Belle</media:title>
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		<title>The Break by Christie</title>
		<link>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/10/the-break/</link>
		<comments>http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/10/the-break/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 10 Jan 2008 15:41:09 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Christie Belle</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[50 Word Stories - Submitted by Various Writers]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://transwriter.wordpress.com/2008/01/10/the-break/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Sylvia walked away because she felt betrayed. Howard shut the door behind her as if to say, “Good Riddance.” He never told anyone that he missed her, only pretended that he was alright living alone. Somewhere inside, Sylvia knew he’d want her back, but she decided never to call again.<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=transwriter.wordpress.com&amp;blog=530224&amp;post=96&amp;subd=transwriter&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:'Times New Roman';">Sylvia walked away because she felt betrayed. Howard shut the door behind her as if to say, “Good Riddance.” He never told anyone that he missed her, only pretended that he was alright living alone. Somewhere inside, Sylvia knew he’d want her back, but she decided never to call again.</span></p>
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			<media:title type="html">Christie Belle</media:title>
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