<?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>Padded on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/padded/</link><description>Recent content in Padded on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sun, 06 Jun 2021 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/padded/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion</title><link>/stories/2021/06/06/institute-for-complete-rubber-immersion/</link><pubDate>Sun, 06 Jun 2021 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2021/06/06/institute-for-complete-rubber-immersion/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Continues from &lt;a href="institute_for_complete_rubber_immersion13.html"&gt;chapter 28&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;h3 id="29"&gt;29&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It&amp;rsquo;s been perhaps three months since that day. Untold weeks on Level 8 followed by the return to my beloved &amp;rsquo;normal&amp;rsquo; life at the ICRI. The first night after my release was particularly poignant, with an emotional welcome home from our Matron, the Warden of Sublevel 2. We both had a good cry as her big white rubber arms squeezed me as though to never let me leave again. I felt almost like the prodigal daughter although of course we both knew that I had taken no initiative in my departure. I could, in hindsight, have hastened my return but we all need to learn our lessons at our own pace. I guess I&amp;rsquo;m kind of slow.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>