<?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>Workbench on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/workbench/</link><description>Recent content in Workbench on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><atom:link href="/tags/workbench/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Pit Pony 3</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/pit-pony-3/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/pit-pony-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="pitpony2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pit Pony 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;They spent a restless night, but for the wrong reason. At dawn, Emily lay on the mattress ineffectually trying to dislodge the many ants crawling over her body, which was difficult without the use of her hands. Eventually, she sat up and struggled to her feet. Her movements woke John, who appeared impervious to the attention of the ants.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“It’s no good,” she cried, “We’ll have to find a way of stopping them before tonight.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>