<?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>EnVeloper on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/enveloper/</link><description>Recent content in EnVeloper on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Thu, 14 Jul 2011 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/enveloper/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Shower</title><link>/stories/2011/07/14/the-shower/</link><pubDate>Thu, 14 Jul 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/07/14/the-shower/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Gretchen awoke from her nightmare with a sharp gasp, sitting up
quickly and richocheting her eyes across her bedroom. Her rapid
breaths subsided slowly with the knowledge of her waking. She fell
back onto her mattress, hand over her heart. The dream was already
trickling away from her consiousness. She remembered feeling trapped,
or falling, or a bit of both. Worst was the vivid memory of a voice
before waking. The low, hissing tone felt like it had whispered
directly into her ear, &amp;ldquo;You&amp;rsquo;ll do wonderfully&amp;rdquo;, followed by deafening
laughter from all sides. She shook the voices from her groggy mind,
swishing her medium-length blond hair. Calmed, she leapt out of bed,
throwing off her nightie and hopping directly into the nearby bathroom
shower.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>