<?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>Morniel on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/morniel/</link><description>Recent content in Morniel on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Thu, 15 May 2008 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/morniel/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Blue Mummy</title><link>/stories/2008/05/15/blue-mummy/</link><pubDate>Thu, 15 May 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2008/05/15/blue-mummy/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Max smiled to himself as he checked the blue nylon carryall to be sure it contained everything he would need. Satisfied, he zipped the bag and slung it over his shoulder, then stepped out of the studio apartment. Pausing only to lock the door, he walked quickly to the elevator, and punched the button. The lift stopped and the doors slid open; a couple of other people were already in the car riding down to the parking level. One was a woman about his mother’s age, with a neatly-marked Dalmatian on a black lead, and the other was a woman he saw from time to time but didn’t really know other than to say hello to.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>