<?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>Deepsky on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/deepsky/</link><description>Recent content in Deepsky on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sun, 02 Oct 2011 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/deepsky/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Hard Lessons in Nevis</title><link>/stories/2011/10/02/hard-lessons-in-nevis/</link><pubDate>Sun, 02 Oct 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/10/02/hard-lessons-in-nevis/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1: Forcibly Facetimed&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jim followed me into the room and the door thudded behind us. I dropped my suitcase in the middle of the floor and allowed my weight to slowly tip forward until I landed face-down on the soft mattress. I loved the feeling of collapsing into bed. I could hear Jim walking around raving about the room and the view, but my mind was on more important things. Sleep. I was exhausted. Men could sleep anywhere. I think Jim slept all 16 hours of the flight here while I managed maybe 1. So, not only was I tired, but I was very, very cranky. Which was made clear during the drive from the airport as we argued 12 rounds about everything between my insane mother in-law to how Jim must have been aiming for every single pot hole in the road. Hey, I said I was cranky. Jim could be a pill too though. I laid face down with my hands at my side, lifelessly. I hated the thought of even having to stand back up to get under the sheets. I cherished several minutes of rest as I inhaled the fresh scent of detergent from the bedspread.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>