<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rdf:RDF xmlns="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#"><channel rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/BlogRss.aspx/Gregory_K_Grind"><title>Grind's Stories - Blogit</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Gregory_K_Grind/</link><description>As a completely new and eager writer, I will bring forth stories that may, or may not catch your eye. If they do, please tell me why, if they dont, please tell me why.</description><sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod><sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency><sy:updateBase>2000-01-01T12:00+00:00</sy:updateBase><items><rdf:Seq><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Gregory_K_Grind/670556" /></rdf:Seq></items></channel><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Gregory_K_Grind/670556"><title>A short story that might develop: Forest of Improbability</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Gregory_K_Grind/670556</link><description>Forest of Improbability The tree mercenaries stopped at the perimeter to the forest. The trees stood taller than any other the three had ever seen, and beyond them blackness filled the ground. The forest was unwelcoming at best, and terrifying at normal. It was a sight that brought all kinds of...</description></item></rdf:RDF>