<?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>Glen Nitwood on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/glen-nitwood/</link><description>Recent content in Glen Nitwood on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><atom:link href="/authors/glen-nitwood/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Lady</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/lady/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/lady/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;*
She snuggled down between the sheets. Hmmm, nice,
fresh linen on her skin. Such a lovely feeling. She brought her knees up
to her chest so that she was in a ball, like when she was a child. Now,
however, instead of being frightened by a raging storm, she was waiting,
waiting for someone to come, she was waiting with delicious expectation
for that special person to come home &amp;amp; play with her.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>