<?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>Driders on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/driders/</link><description>Recent content in Driders on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 23 Dec 2006 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/driders/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Drider 4: War</title><link>/stories/2006/12/23/drider-4-war/</link><pubDate>Sat, 23 Dec 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/12/23/drider-4-war/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Drider 4:
War!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Special thanks to Kemmer for suggesting some of the ideas in this story&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The cold night
air stung Antonio as he walked through the desert. He cursed himself for
not bringing a coat. He didn’t even bring a jacket. All he had was
a shirt and his jeans.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;&lt;em&gt;Stupid,
stupid!&lt;/em&gt;&amp;rdquo; He cursed himself. &amp;ldquo;&lt;em&gt;You&amp;rsquo;re such a fool
Antonio! You might freeze out here, and you didn’t think to bring a
jacket did you?&lt;/em&gt;&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Drider 4: War Part 2</title><link>/stories/2006/12/23/drider-4-war-part-2/</link><pubDate>Sat, 23 Dec 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/12/23/drider-4-war-part-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="drider4.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;London was
silent.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The sound of
cars, of crowds, of people, were all gone.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The city, for the
first time in its history, was totally silent.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;There were large
webs strung up through the city, between every building and every street.
On each web were up to two dozen silk bundles. They were still and quiet
most of the time, but occasionally they wiggled ever so slightly, and a muffled
cry could faintly be heard.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Drider 4: War Part 3</title><link>/stories/2006/12/23/drider-4-war-part-3/</link><pubDate>Sat, 23 Dec 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/12/23/drider-4-war-part-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="drider4pt2.html"&gt;part two&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Wow dad,&amp;rdquo; Mona said. &amp;ldquo;She&amp;rsquo;s
beautiful.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Really? I do admit, she actually looks quite
attractive in that shell of hers. Do you think its thick enough?&amp;rdquo;
Mona walked up to the concrete shell and knocked on it. A thunk greeted
her attempt.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Yes, I think its thick enough.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;One question father.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Yes?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Why did you put her in that rubber suit?&amp;rdquo;
Pierre grinned sheepishly.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Well….uhm…oh, you know. To keep
her…warm. Yes, that&amp;rsquo;s it. Keep her warm!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Drider 3 part 2</title><link>/stories/2005/07/23/drider-3-part-2/</link><pubDate>Sat, 23 Jul 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/07/23/drider-3-part-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="drider3pt2.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2: Memories.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Her husband dying. The bill collectors. Bankruptcy. The government
seizing her house and almost everything she owned.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Homeless, she wandered the streets for many cold and miserable nights.
The only shelter she knew had been the singles bar.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Then he had walked in through the door…&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Rose smiled softly at the memory of first meeting that young man, seeing
him come through that door. In him she saw her escape from the cold, homeless
nights and loneliness. She wasn’t aware of smiling. She was asleep, despite the fact that she
was hanging upside down in a cave, bound nose to toe in white, tight, and
warm silk. Considering her predicament, it was a wonder that she could
sleep at all.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>