<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Ayari on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/ayari/</link><description>Recent content in Ayari on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Tue, 24 Sep 2013 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/ayari/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The End</title><link>/stories/2013/09/24/the-end/</link><pubDate>Tue, 24 Sep 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/09/24/the-end/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I would have screamed if it had not been for the metal head enclosure I was sealed into, cold and unyielding and holding my mouth firmly shut. Not that I could have opened it anyways, I had been injected so full of muscle relaxant that I was essentially paralysed, nothing moved, nothing…&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;From a couple of plastic windows I had been left for the eyes I could see in front of me, my gaze affixed upon the table, holding my fate and my life from my unmoving eyes, eyes that would never again see my pretty reflection, my Monroe smile or my petite size ten figure. All that was left of me was my mind and with no port for expression I was lost into a world of my loneliness.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>