Animales | Fantasticos Drive

“That one’s not supposed to be here,” Miro whispered. “It’s the Warden’s pet. If it’s loose, the Warden is—”

She woke up slumped over the steering wheel of her beat-up 2005 Honda Civic. Outside, the suburban street was gone. Instead, a violet sky stretched over a road that shimmered like liquid mercury. It wasn't asphalt; it was stardust. A sign, written in glowing, curling script, read: Animales Fantasticos Drive

She looked at the infinite, strange horizon. “Wherever the road needs me.” “That one’s not supposed to be here,” Miro whispered

“They don’t like loud noises or sharp turns,” Miro said calmly. the suburban street was gone. Instead