Liz Riffle
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A mushroom dance

A mushroom dance

Jan 04, 2022

Tabitha paused. She'd been dutifully tromping through the woods after her friends for the last two hours, letting the combined chatter and crunch‐shushing of leaves wash over her when she saw a spot of blue. It was a bright electric cyan. She bent down to take a closer look, carefully peeling layers of composting leaves back.

There... a tiny patch of delicate blue mushrooms with thin translucent stalks. They were so small. She wondered at their ability to grow in such an environment.

She straightened to call out to her friends about her discovery and realized the forest was silent around her. Her friends had kept moving and now she was alone. Tabitha slid her phone from her pocket, checking for service. No bars. She stood for a minute, debating her feelings, deciding she really liked the quiet. She switched to the camera and began taking photos of the miniscule mushrooms.

To be continued...

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