<?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>Cots on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/cots/</link><description>Recent content in Cots on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Thu, 05 Sep 2013 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/cots/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Box</title><link>/stories/2013/09/05/the-box/</link><pubDate>Thu, 05 Sep 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/09/05/the-box/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Oh look at that poor man sitting in the bus shelter. He is soaked to the skin and looks so dejected!”  The two women stood in the doorway of a shop opposite. The rain continued falling like stair rods.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;John looked over at them. He couldn’t hear what they were saying. Their words were drowned out by the rain. But he did see that they were looking at him. John shivered, but that was because it was just above freezing. He was cold, wet and hungry.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>