<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19030161</id><updated>2011-04-21T10:29:01.754-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Words From Around the World</title><subtitle type='html'>I've decided to begin a story and let the rest of the world complete it. Upon the story ending, I would like to possibly find a publisher and donate all funds to an organization. The organization that is chosen will be by majority vote. Just a fun way to give back.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldstory.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19030161/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldstory.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Adreanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05992816087007585233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19030161.post-113215838831493051</id><published>2005-11-16T05:21:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T05:26:28.313-11:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Adreanne sat staring, at nothing in particular. The breeze that was passing through the shear drapes in the bedroom left her mezmerized. If she squinted, she could imagine different shapes and images on the drapes as they moved. Her mind always wonders at this time of day. The morning, when the day is new. She misses him so much. She tries to recall the events of that evening, again and again................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19030161-113215838831493051?l=worldstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldstory.blogspot.com/feeds/113215838831493051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19030161&amp;postID=113215838831493051' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19030161/posts/default/113215838831493051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19030161/posts/default/113215838831493051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldstory.blogspot.com/2005/11/adreanne-sat-staring-at-nothing-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Adreanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05992816087007585233</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
