Heart Stone
Not until I was dangling thirty meters in the air, a deadly distance to fall, did I realize the major flaw in my beautiful design. The idea to build a subterranean exploration vessel came to me one fine May morning while strolling the University’s freshly clipped verge. I collided with a strange dark brown cloud eking from the wall of a gardening shed—hundreds and hundreds of spiderlings ballooning, catching the wind with their miniscule threads of silk—were suddenly attached to me. My reaction to the sudden onslaught could be described as hysteria, but I do not consider myself a hysteric. Eager to identify the species, I found myself in the library with a few remaining specimens I had collected after the fray, and was delighted to find the University kept books on the identif
