<?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>Bind on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/bind/</link><description>Recent content in Bind on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Tue, 03 Apr 2018 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/bind/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Secrets of Shackleton Grange</title><link>/stories/2018/04/03/the-secrets-of-shackleton-grange/</link><pubDate>Tue, 03 Apr 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/04/03/the-secrets-of-shackleton-grange/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="secretsofshackletongrange26.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;chapter 26&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 27: The Dawning of a New Era&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Saskia watched as the car advanced slowly up the driveway; the sound of gravel crackling beneath tyres disturbing the stillness of the evening. The outlook from the small office window gave an excellent view of the approach to Shackleton Grange’s main entrance, and she was able to observe the dark green Toyota coming to a halt beside the derelict fountain, before the doors on both sides opened simultaneously and the pair of occupants emerged into the failing light.  A minute or so ago, the buzz of the intercom had been followed by a disembodied female voice informing her that Megan and Alison had arrived for tonight’s class, and now Saskia was able to put faces to the names, as the duo slammed the car doors shut and began to walk slowly towards the house.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Secrets of Shackleton Grange</title><link>/stories/2018/04/03/the-secrets-of-shackleton-grange/</link><pubDate>Tue, 03 Apr 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/04/03/the-secrets-of-shackleton-grange/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="secretsofshackletongrange27.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;chapter 27&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 28: Tying Up a Few Loose Ends&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A surreal atmosphere hung over the ancient mansion house that Tuesday morning. As the rising sun did its best to burn off the early morning mist which lifted in slowly swirling wisps from Shackleton Grange’s dew-laden lawns, Cathy and Saskia sat watching from their seats in the vast bay window.  Both had eaten a good breakfast, prepared by the three docile and accommodating servants, and now sat back sipping &lt;em&gt;lapsang souchong&lt;/em&gt; from Dolores’ best china, as what appeared to be the genesis of a fine Suffolk spring day unfurled before their eyes.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Police Demonstration of LA-TEX</title><link>/stories/2016/07/01/police-demonstration-of-la-tex/</link><pubDate>Fri, 01 Jul 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/07/01/police-demonstration-of-la-tex/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;A shapely woman in a tight fitting grey silk blouse and a drum tight knee length skirt charcoal gray skirt stood behind a presentation stand, she had long shapely legs that were covered in tight black stockings, her feet were encased in a pair of patent black shoes with a five inch heel. She wore a pair of thin black glasses she had high cheek bones and long red hair pulled back into a tight pony tail. She spoke, &amp;ldquo;Good morning ladies and gentlemen my name is Officer Darla Crain; today we will be demonstrating the latest in restraint technology. A new evolution in suspect control and containment, this is the future&amp;rdquo;.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>