Archive | May 25, 2014

Wise Mushroom, a story of Fairy Town for the Giraffe Call

May25

I asked for prompts regarding mushrooms here for The MicroPrompt Giraffe Call. This is written to Anke’s Prompt here and is set in my Fairy Town ‘verse

“They call him the Wise Mushroom.” Delores held tight to Everett’s hand and dragged him into the center of the park.

“Who’s they and who’s he?” Everett wasn’t so much resisting the pull – even at 10 years old, he knew better than that – as he was arguing his way every inch of the path.

“They is everybody. And he is the Wise Mushroom. He’s… you know. He’s the Wise. Mushroom. And he’s the grandfather of the mushrooms, and you can eat them and you get smarter.”

“That doesn’t sound good. That doesn’t sound right. And besides, if he’s the grandfather, wouldn’t he mind you eating his grandchildren?”

“Well, maybe it’s like…” Delores pursed her lips. “Like grandma’s billy goat, at the farm. He likes making new baby goats all the time. Right?”

“You’re saying, what, the Wise Mushroom is like, is like the billy goat? This makes less and less sense. Who’s been telling you stories, Delores? They’ve been yanking your chain.”

“I’m afraid it’s been me.” The voice came from the brush in front of them. “I’ve been telling Delores stories.”

Everett pushed the brush aside. “Who are you? Where?”

“Right here.” Down at the children’s feet, a mushroom a foot tall was smoking a long pipe. “I’ve been telling Delores stories.”

Tip ‘Shroom 😉

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/721022.html. You can comment here or there.

Fairy Rings… a story of Fae post-apoc for the Giraffe Call

May25

I asked for prompts regarding mushrooms here for The MicroPrompt Giraffe Call. This is written to Rix’s Prompt here and is set in the post-apoc of my Fae Apoc ‘verse.

“You know what this is, right?” Essie touched the mushrooms lightly with her toe. “It’s a fairy circle.”

It was a circle, all right, wider around than either of them were tall, in a clearing in the forest that seemed tailor-made for it. P.J. mmm’d dubiously.

“A fairy circle? I mean…”

“You’re not going to try to say ‘fairies aren’t real,’ are you?” Essie leaned forward. “I mean, really. Fairies ruined the world. My dad says so.”

“Those weren’t fairies, not really fairies. I mean, they were gods. Not things that are… what, born out of circles of mushrooms?”

“One and the same, my dad says. All the same, gods and little fairies with wings.” Essie paced around the circle. “And places like this, this is where they come from. Big circles, little circles, mushroom circles – they’re fairy rings. My dad remembers.”

P.J. sighed. You couldn’t argue with what Essie’s dad said, what he remembered, especially not as paraphrased by Essie. He was one of the oldest people left in their little settlement, and his youngest daughter idolized him. “Okay. SO maybe it’s a fairy ring. How to fairies come out of it? Are they born out of the dirt or something? Do they just… plop out?”

“I don’t know! My dad didn’t tell me tha…” Essie trailed off.

The ground was splitting. A pair of horns and gossamer wings were rising, slowly, out of the dirt within the ring.

“Returned gods!” Essie ran away, leaving P.J to stare as the fairy rose from the dirt.

Tip ‘Shroom 😉

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/720653.html. You can comment here or there.