The Logatré by Eileen Burnett Originally published on Reedsy republished with permissions He peered out from behind the boughs of the delicately feathered trees nearest him, those last bastions of safety and solitude that one could run to before the landscape dropped off into the ichor-ridden tundra that now surrounded the land of his youth. The trees gave plenty of cover from prying eyes, and so Garran, grateful for the respite, took a knee as he scanned the landscape for any signs of life. He saw none. Sighing, he turned his sights up toward the fimbriated filaments that danced overhead, those marvels of nature that masked his intrusion into the world of the beyond, and for a moment, was overcome with an overwhelming sense of calmness. Not a single thought crossed his mind during that time, save the occasional echo of a memory of his youth, and the thaumaturgical sensation of being in utero. He stayed there in that moment for what seemed to be a lifetime, half-dazed,...
