“It’s not criminal, but it’s a violation of something-or-other,” Mom said in her law-gic voice. “I wouldn’t call it il-legal. More like extra-legal.” What a relief. If the Law found us, they would probably give me a medal for being so much more legal than everyone else. 

“Oh good! The horse came home after all. I knew we’d find a happy ending.” 

“After they mounted a thorough search for the horse, and a respectful time had passed for grief, I bet they adopted a buffalo,” I concluded. “Hey, what’s the difference between a buffalo and a bison?”

“Keep the windows closed!” I panted as the glass-and-steel canyons sucked the Wagon through a forest of billboards. “I told you, it doesn’t work that way.” Mom turned down the blowers anyway.

“When I was younger, I used to look at maps of logging roads and imagine what it would be like to explore all those paths to nowhere.”

I looked back at the bite mark and my body went cold. A something was flapping just beyond the edge of it...

I looked back at the bite mark and my body went cold. A something was flapping just beyond the edge of it...