<?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>Elasticbands on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/elasticbands/</link><description>Recent content in Elasticbands on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Mon, 27 Jan 2014 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/elasticbands/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Bridleway</title><link>/stories/2014/01/27/the-bridleway/</link><pubDate>Mon, 27 Jan 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/01/27/the-bridleway/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="../storieslr/thepooltheorchardthepony.html"&gt;The Pool, The Orchard &amp;amp; the Pony&lt;/a&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;a href="../storieslr/pickingappleswithpenelope.html"&gt;Picking Apples with Penelope&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Hello?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Ah, hello Craig, glad to hear you were waiting by the phone. I need you at my place at 2pm this afternoon. No clothes.” Susan rang off, leaving me to listen to dial tone while contemplating what would happen to me this time.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A year had gone by since Susan, my late uncle’s widow, had tricked me into becoming her ponyboy. We’d had some interesting adventures, but the one she had in store for me this time topped the lot. So I finally plucked up enough courage to share it with you all.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>