It’s official: I have ZERO self-control. Tuesday is just too far away. It’s only a day late, right? Okay, it did take me almost all day to get around to posting this, I know. But when I started posting my first story, Into the Dragon’s Lair, I said this while I was explaining how often I woule be posting:
I will try consistently post every Tuesday (I think they’ll be 6 parts), but if I miss a day I’ll fudge and post it late (or early, if I see it coming). I thought you guys would appreciate that more than my skipping a week for the sake of regularity.
Once I remembered that, I knew I had a good excuse. More than an excuse, it’s a good reason. But I have a little news first. . .
. . . Today is Michael’s Adoption Day!
Exactly three years ago Little Brother and I officially became siblings–but really, he was my brother all along. We were family even before the finalization, no matter what legalities were in place. We were so blessed to be able to bring M right Home from the hospital!
Now, read away:
Amelia set Jerry on the ground and bent down beside the mushroom. She grasped the base of the stalk in both hands, snapped it off, and swung the fungus over her shoulder. It was taller than she was, but light as a feather. She carried it back to her house, tripping on an overeager-to-keep-up-with-her centipede. She brought it inside and laid it on the table.
A whole mushroom! She could eat more than a few leaves each day after such a discovery. Too excited to try any gourmet cooking, Amelia broke off a chunk of the cap for her dinner, and sat outside her house gnawing on the raw mushroom with a disquieting thought growing on her mind.
She sat for a while after she had finished; watching the stars come out and listening to the crickets’ fiddles. But she was far too disquieted to sit still long, and soon got up and began to clean up her house. She scrubbed vigorously until she decided it was time to get some sleep. Before she went to bed, Amelia broke the mushroom into three pieces and set it on a shelf—hidden behind several things.
She sat on the edge of her little bed in her white daisy-petal nightgown and looked down at Jerry, who was sitting on the floor, obviously trying to climb up the bed posts. “Now I’ve spoiled you,” Amelia sighed as she lifted him up by a front leg. “If you could learn to like mushroom you’d have enough to eat too,” she added over her shoulder as he curled up against her back.
But that was her problem—sharing. One mushroom couldn’t feed the whole colony, but it could feed a few. She should offer food if she had it, shouldn’t she? But with one little toadstool divided up among so many fairies, would she get any?