<?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>Rankine on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/rankine/</link><description>Recent content in Rankine on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 09 May 2026 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/rankine/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Buried in Sand</title><link>/stories/2026/05/09/buried-in-sand/</link><pubDate>Sat, 09 May 2026 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2026/05/09/buried-in-sand/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Sleep evades me.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Like the night before Christmas when you were a child, hoping that Father Christmas had come and bought you just what you wanted.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Except it wasn&amp;rsquo;t quite like that. This was no toy train set that I wanted, this had been a fantasy, a desire, a longing, for many years that I can remember. This time it was different.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The research had been done. A quiet place in the sand dunes on the East Coast, where there weren&amp;rsquo;t too many visitors, hardly any. But still with the added frisson that we might be discovered. I also had Mistress there to keep me safe. We had been through all the consent and agreed what to do. As this was the first time out of what I hoped would be many, I didn&amp;rsquo;t want to take it too far.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>