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	<title>The Writer&#039;s Blog &#187; writer</title>
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	<description>Original Writing - only at Brios dot Com</description>
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		<title>All war postcards.</title>
		<link>http://www.brios.com/2010/04/14/all-war-postcards/</link>
		<comments>http://www.brios.com/2010/04/14/all-war-postcards/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 14 Apr 2010 20:21:31 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Philana H</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Philana H]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[post cards]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[war cards]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[There is proof of these postcards, and they are not made up. These are real cards writen by people during the war. Thankyou for reading them. Philana.]]></description>
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		<title>The sun</title>
		<link>http://www.brios.com/2010/01/23/the-sun/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 23 Jan 2010 20:20:29 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Philana H</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[It dazzles and gleam, all day showing off its beauty. Dare look at it, it blinds you. A huge Sphere smocking all day long. Always moving and shining somewhere on earth. It reaches out. &#8220;Look at me.&#8221; it says. Yet no reply. Taken for nothing.]]></description>
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		<title>Snow</title>
		<link>http://www.brios.com/2010/01/23/snow/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 23 Jan 2010 19:53:04 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Philana H</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[I trudged through the thickening snow, passing battereed gates and dark alleyways. The snow was pulling me in, swallowing me up, and absorbing me. The ice and snow crunched beneath my feet. I skidded into the gutter. By now I was drenched to the bone. Freezing cold, I plodded on.It&#8217;s scary walking through the streets of [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Beach</title>
		<link>http://www.brios.com/2010/01/23/beach/</link>
		<comments>http://www.brios.com/2010/01/23/beach/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 23 Jan 2010 19:40:39 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Philana H</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[The steaming ball of fire fled across Sunset Cove blowing my hair into the gentle, cooling breeze. I tipped backwards into the soft warm sand. I made an angel while seagulls formed an arrow in the deep blue sky above me, as if beckoning me to follow them. I sprang into life and ran across the [...]]]></description>
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		<title>The Traveller</title>
		<link>http://www.brios.com/2010/01/23/the-traveller/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 23 Jan 2010 17:25:48 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Philana H</dc:creator>
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		<category><![CDATA[adventure]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[The petrified traveler stumbled down the narrow, rickety footpath, His golden horse plodding alongside him. The dark wood was pulling him in, swallowing him up, and in some way absorbing him. He heard an unearthly growl coming from one side of him. He felt as if the shadows were hanging on his every move. He [...]]]></description>
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