Inland Bound
Joanna Howard

Remember, this pavilion was once fortified. Then, red drifts. Lions attacked our horses. Above us, the spectacle of war kites, zeppelins. We followed some craven dog, an arrow marked his back. The tunnel had an opening, an echoing throat. Into the maw! Enrapt. Gossamer, but none spun by human distaff.

More fiction by Joanna Howard is featured in [C.], an anthology of Stamp Stories from MLP.

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