<?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>The SilkMaster on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/the-silkmaster/</link><description>Recent content in The SilkMaster on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 12 Sep 2020 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/the-silkmaster/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Spring Cleaning</title><link>/stories/2020/09/12/spring-cleaning/</link><pubDate>Sat, 12 Sep 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/09/12/spring-cleaning/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Spring cleaning can be so cathartic. All that crap that has accumulated over the winter has finally come to the end of its uses and time to get rid of or be packed away. My sweetie and I were in our purge mode with one of those huge bag dumpsters in the driveway. Anything you can fit in it they will haul away for a little over a hundred bucks.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Telephone Number</title><link>/stories/2020/03/16/the-telephone-number/</link><pubDate>Mon, 16 Mar 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/03/16/the-telephone-number/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;He was sitting in his den reading. It was a book by Richard Bach about one of his flights in a biplane. When the doorbell chimed he thought it was odd. Rarely did any one come to his lair without being escorted. A quick click of the remote brought the front door security camera up on the television. It was a very old friend. He was always happy to see her. His heart has a very, very special place for her. He first met her online shortly after a bout of depression that almost killed him. She kept chatting with him, keeping him online, and away from the suicidal thoughts that haunted him. As he grew out of the depression, their friendship grew.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>I Want a Fantasy, Damnit</title><link>/stories/2019/11/12/i-want-a-fantasy-damnit/</link><pubDate>Tue, 12 Nov 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/11/12/i-want-a-fantasy-damnit/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;He was a simple fellow. Always trying to do the right thing. On his girlfriend’s birthday she dressed like Snow White with a beautiful yellow, blue and red dress. With the proper amount of puff in the sleeves. She looked gorgeous. Our hero thought it was fantastic and thought it was proper to whisk her to the bedroom right away and make mad passionate love to her.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Thinking that he did the right thing, our hero was full of himself. He didn’t notice how melancholic his girl felt. She was moping, not smiling and only providing one word answers when asked just about any question. It finally took him a week before he sat her down and asked some in depth questions as to what was wrong with her.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>