<?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/attax2083"><title>FICTION FROM DR. DRIVEBY - Blogit</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/attax2083/</link><description>mid-seventies disco horror tale</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/attax2083/244235" /></rdf:Seq></items></channel><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/attax2083/244235"><title>SPOOKS</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/attax2083/244235</link><description>CHAPTER 28 A NIGHTMARE Later that evening, after having been left at a bus stop, Bashdul Szgabu stashed his money and rented an El Dorado. He drove to a motel on Stony Island, booked a room and dined on fried chicken, okra, black-eyed peas, sucatash, and cheap wine which washed him to sleep where...</description></item></rdf:RDF>