LIBRA: Fantasy Romance Edition
Falling for a Fungi
“A Day Worth Remembering”
Fantasy Romance by L.J. Longo
Read time: 15 minutes
As he stood in the mirror patiently growing moss into the shape of a casual tee shirt, Oshre knew he was lucky to be included. Fairies are notoriously open in their invitations but also very careful when they announce and discuss outings. Even work events.
It was going to be strange seeing the folks from the office on an off day. Would they all eat together or go to separate stalls? Maybe argue for hours about what restaurant to try? What if there was a fight? What if it became a duel?
Oshre grew too much moss and now it hung down to his knees. Not fashionable. He sighed and pulled it off, balled it up, and started again.
The mysterious ruins had dozens of places to eat. And rules against dueling. What other rules were there? What if he broke one without knowing? What if he broke an obvious one that all his friends knew, and he looked like an ass?
Oshre burbled nervously, then pushed the thought away and finished the hem of his moss T-shirt. The rules were posted clearly. His coworkers would not fight. It would be a fun and casual day at the mysterious ruins, and he was lucky to be included.
He'd been to the mysterious ruins before. It was a good date spot because there was so much to do. Eat at the fungus restaurants or the petal ones. Slide over the pools of black goo. Explore the dark foul-smelling tube or dance in the huge crystal globes at the front. The favorite activity was of course to take the stairs along the walls and scale the heights of the ruins and look down at everyone from above, then walk across the transparent floor and slide down the side of the ruins, shooting past the crystal globes and landing in the oozy slicks.
The butterfly wings could do it all day, fluttering up to the top, sliding only as far as they wanted, flutter into the air when the speed was too frightening. But for Oshre it was an ordeal. Each time, the long climb up the stairs, then the walk across the clear floor, looking down at the distant restaurants and wandering folk. Then the slide down, unstoppable for him. No early exit from spreading gossamer wings. He would end in the slick.
It was great fun. But it was not quick entertainment.
When he went with toad-tongues and spider-legs, he could do it all day. But most of his fellows at work were flutter-wings. Lerg, who usually slithered beside him at team-building exercises, was getting ready to hibernate.
They all met at a local dew cafe—Oshre arrived almost an hour early and got the stink eye from a couple of crow flyers who didn't know why a bulbous little mushroom would be hanging out sipping fancy dewdrops. The crow-flyers and pumpkin-biners arrived just when they said they would, but the flutter-wings were predictably late. But not late enough to break the rules of etiquette.
And Ereh brought buttercup biscuits, so that more than made up for the wait. They set off in a bubble to the ruins. Oshre, to make sure he was useful, piloted the bubble while everyone else chatted and sang.
The first time he'd gone to the ruins, he'd been on a school trip. They heard the history of the ruin. He'd taken his time reading the translations of the "owner’s manual" and getting an appreciation for the sturdiness of the iron, which would outlast the animal who had piloted the ruin for thousands of years. Most of the other walkers got bored and wandered off to explore the foul-smelling tube. He'd not seen the flyers from the time they'd arrived, except as a vague impression of glinting wings overhead.
"Do you know that while the ruin is likely the only one of its kind in the whole forest, there are millions in the world?" He said it in a lull just after Ereh had said something about having no idea what the ruin actually was.
His office mates looked at him surprised he'd spoken, and Oshre felt embarrassed and seen. Until three of the flutter-wings floated down by him.
"You know the mysteries?"
"I've gone to the museum part a few times," he admitted.
"Oh, that mycelium network inside the dark airless place! I hate it. I was never able to pay attention to anything. Why don't they put it in the sunlight?"
Oshre smiled, "Because then the mushrooms would die."
"Gargo, you take over piloting," Ereh insisted, then battered her gossamer wings. "Tell us everything."
He was worried he'd ruin the mysteries or botch the telling, but Oshre did his best.
The last time Oshre had taken a date to the ruins, she was a pretty girl with moth wings. She'd worn a long green scarf and wanted to do nothing as much as climb to the top of the ruins to take in the view and then slide. He'd agreed and knew the date had failed. They'd met reading in the moonlight library together and shared a love of lore and agreed to meet for leaf juice sometime. She'd picked the ruins and Oshre knew there was no point.
He'd not even climbed fourteen steps before mothwing started to get antsy. She flitted a little away as they talked, then sighed and tried to walk on the steps beside him, and then gave up and flew again.
It was not long before she'd abandoned him and fluttered into the open air to dance and sing with other flyers. Oshre had watched her scarf seeing it trail behind her as she flirted and flew in the big open space.
When he reached the top, he could tell she'd been sliding down the ruins for a bit and she had a little crowd of new friends with her.
He'd tried to be understanding in case there was something to salvage, but he soon lost her amongst the flyers and eventually as the sun set … he himself slid down into the slicks and headed home.
Mishre cleverly brought a pair of dice and they let fate decide where they'd eat and everyone was satisfied to find it was the Marrow Yard. Ereh happily laid out the activities for the rest of the day going down a brochure of the ruins and taking votes on what they should do. The museum was vetoed since Oshre had done such a better job than the mycelium network ever could. Oshre blushed with pride and was then surprised when Ereh vetoed the slide.
She said very sternly. “One trip at the end of the day.”
There was a general groan and Oshre shrank into his cap, knowing a duel was coming. There would be a fraction in their workplace, a fissure that would grow with every missed deadline and awkward silence, until one day the mere word “ruins” would shatter the peace and lead to an all-out screaming across the spiderweb dividers.
"Well, that will be the end of the office outing at any rate," she said, finally. "And no one will go before then. Agreed?"
"Agreed," they all said.
Ereh looked at Oshre who had been so consumed with thoughts of throwing buttercup bombs into the bat-wings cave’s that he had not answered. "Oshre?"
"Oh yes, agreed. Very much so. Thank you."
So, the whole team went shopping. Ereh bought a lovely scale jacket that pressed her wings down her back. "Lerg will say I overpaid for it. But really … two wishes for such a lovely design. Do you like it, Oshre?"
He found it very impractical since it covered her wings and prevented her from flying. But it was a lovely shade of brownish green. "It suits you."
They went to hear the Nightingale’s concert and Ereh walked beside him, while the others fluttered above and around. The two of them talked about the poems they'd eaten recently and the dreams they'd spent and Oshre began to feel very at ease. He had always liked Ereh and it was nice to spend time with her.
After a few hours in the ruins, Oshre was sure he'd never spent such a pleasant day. They’d explored the cottony darkness and the foul-smelling tube. And all dared each other to lick the stinging iron sides of the ruins. Oshre didn't hesitate and found the laughter just as rewarding as the vibrating sting.
He was heartily sorry when Ereh announced, "I think it is finally time for the view and the slide."
The other flutter-wings leaped onto the air and buzzed about, but she maintained her feet on the ground and walked with Oshre to the mushroom stairs.
But in looking up she was daunted. “There's so many of them.”
"You can fly up with the rest of them and dance in the twinkle lights," Oshre said. "I don't mind.”
Ereh smiled and bumped his shoulder. “Tired of talking to me?”
“Oh, never.”
“Well then,” she wove her arm through his and they started up the stairs together. “You’ll have to make the journey shorter by telling me funny stories about when you were a seedling.”
Her wings were fluttering under her jacket, and she kept looking longingly out at the other flutter-wings who were dancing just below the transparent floor. He thought to offer again to let her join them, but Oshre enjoyed her company too much to let her go. He wondered if he’d accidentally trapped her in some etiquette. He didn’t mean to, but he also didn’t care to find his faux pas and correct it.
It was slow going though, she had to step on each stair and her spindly little ankles, so pretty and delicate were shaking. Then he hit on a strange idea and before his anxiety could catch up with him, he asked, “Ereh, would you like me to carry you on my cap?”
“Boy, would I!” She trilled and leaped up, quite forgetting that her wings were under her new jacket until they spread and pushed it up around her shoulders. She settled down lightly on his soft foamy cap and held onto the brim. “Is this all right?”
“It’s perfect,” Oshre said, very pleased with himself to be so well balanced and to have such a pretty fairy perched on his cap. He climbed up the stairs with great speed and greater pride. “But as payment, you have to slide down with me.”
“With you, of course.”
“All the way down, I mean.” He grinned.
“To the slicks? You mean without flying?”
“That’s what I mean,” he said and wondered if he’s pushed too far. “Unless you don’t want to, in which case, it’s my pleasure to—”
“Of course I want to. How thrilling!”
They met up with the other flutter-wings as soon as they were in the open air again and everyone from the office, including the crow-wing thought it would be fun to climb onto Oshre’s cap. He was not so easily balanced with that and shrank and rooted when he felt the cap squishing too deeply. The others laughed at him as soon as they saw he was not truly hurt and only Ereh remained on her perch.
Before the long slide down, they all wished each other well and said what a fun day it was and how beautiful the view was, and how droll it was going to be to tell Lerg all about the fun they’d had the next time he came into the office. And as the flutter-wings went ahead to race down the slope for the first of many times, the crow-wing, frog-tongue, and Ereh stayed with Oshre.
“I mean it,” he said to her again. “You don’t have to stay with me. I have no choice but to end up in the slicks.”
“Oh, the slicks are great fun!” The frog-tongue licked his eye.
“It does get awfully fast,” the crow-flyer said. “I usually glide the last bit, and there’s no shame in it.”
“None at all,” Oshre agreed.
“Well, I mean to keep on my new jacket and see how it fares in the slick,” Ereh said.
The edge of the slide was filled with a great deal of shrieking and mirth and flutter-wings slipped down the highest parts then flew into the air and circled back to do it again. He shook paws with the crow-wing and the frog-tongue before they set out and he stood with Ereh still on his cap taking in the view.
The forest was a blaze of autumn colors, and the first chill was coming into the air. Soon most of the world be curled up in nutshells and in hollows. He hoped Ereh had somewhere warm and dry to spend the winters. He tipped his head to look at the stars, knowing he would not see them so close until the springtime when he returned to the ruins.
“You ready?” he said to Ereh.
“I am.” She held tight to the brim of his cap, squishing the edge a bit. It hurt a little, but it also made him feel … warm in his heart.
He slipped his spongy foot on the transparent pane. The pollen of last year slipped beneath his toes. “Here we go.”
“Whee!” She squealed with joy as they began to slide.
The cool air whooshed by, flapping through their clothes until he could no longer hear the shrill laughter and frightened cries of the other fairies. He saw in the distance the spot where most crow-wings took flight and he found himself widening his stance and his feet to get closer to the slide as they blew past the place where all but the most determined flutter-wings got swept into the air.
Ereh was holding hard to his cap now and her feet were in the air. He could hear her jacket and her wings fluttering and he wished he’d thought to say farewell to her. She was going to blow off his cap, no doubt, and then fly up to the top again. Join the other flutter-wings and enjoy the rest of their evening without their clodding co-workers. And if he had the nerve, if he didn’t talk himself out of it, maybe on Monday he’d tell her how much he enjoyed the outing and spending time with her.
“Oshre!” She gasped and lost her grip as the winds buffeted her away.
He turned and waved at her. She caught herself in the air, the jacket riding up on her shoulders and looking very silly—very un-Ereh. But her face was red with annoyance, and she pulled the jacket off, held it firm in her hands, and flapped hard.
She was trying to catch up.
Oshre was confused and put his hands down on the slide to try to slow himself. “Why?”
With a great deal of panting and swooping, she caught up. “Because—give me your hand, dummy!”
Oshre startled and held out his hand. She grabbed him tightly and then climbed up his forearm. He sat down and stretched out his legs to give her a lap to sit in and she laughed merrily at him.
“Whee!” she cried again.
“You really like sliding that much?” he asked.
“I like sliding with you,” Ereh said. “I wanted to go to the slicks with you.”
“Oh.” He felt that warmth in his chest again and smiled giddily. Then it was his turn to lift his hands and yell, “Wheeee!”
They fell off the ruins together and she clung to him as they soared through the air past the crystal globes where other fairies danced. He clung to her as he bounced into the slicks and spun in a circle in the mud. His mossy coat tore, but he didn’t care because Ereh was laughing and in his arms.
“Oh, that was fun!” she said when the spinning stopped.
“Your jacket didn’t even get mud on it,” Oshre teased, because he of course had taken all the mud.
She fluttered into the air and tied it around her waist. “It is a very good jacket. I got it so, well … I like it very much.”
Oshre got to his feet. “I suppose I’ll catch the next bubble back, though. Enjoy the rest of the day.”
She fluttered after him. “You’re very obstinate.”
He tried to look up at her, but she had settled on top of his cap again. “Am I?”
“Yes. What tree do you winter in?”
“The big bitch near the water. There’s a fine little library under its leaves and a very fine hollow in the roots.”
“I think I shall winter there, too,” Ereh said.
“It can be very damp, though,” he said. “Most suited for mushrooms and frog-tongues.”
“Well, then maybe you could be convinced to winter in the great oak by the pond, which has a fine library and a nice open dance hall and many rooms in the knots.”
He’d never thought of moving to a different tree; it was much more of a flutter-wing thing to move from house to house. “Perhaps I could. Will you winter there.”
“I will if you will.” She peeked over his cap to look into his face. “So … will you?”
“I will.” He smiled and nodded, accidentally tipping her too far forward.
She caught herself in the air and then fluttered beside him as he walked. She seemed to be waiting for him to say something. And many romantic notions bubbled and boiled in his brain, but the thing that at last escaped his mouth was: “Your jacket is slipping.”
“Oops.” She re-tied it and then said, “Can’t have that happen, this jacket will always remind me of today. I knew when I went and bought it that I must have something nice to remember today.”
“Was today that special?”
“It was.” She reached out her hand. “Because it’s the day I realized you were in love with me. Isn’t that right?”
Oshre felt springtime spreading in his heart and flushed with an odd mix of happiness, and embarrassment, and pride. He took her hand and nodded. “That is right. Are you also in love with me?”
“Yes. That is right. I ought to have mentioned.” Ereh also flushed pink and squeezed her fingers around his.
“Good. That is a day worth remembering.”
~ LJ
Want more?
"Haven't I seen you before?"
This fluttering feels dangerous, strange, and off-balance.
Your perfect evening routine will be shattered if you answer. No hope of finishing this podcast tonight and no 15 minutes with Duolingo.
But it would be rude and silly not to answer. "I take the 5:40 train every day."
Excerpt from LJ’s romantic story, “Off Balance” featured in the 2022 Libra issue of Dharma Direction.
L.J. Longo is an award-winning Romance author, a queer geek, and feminist writing a medley of dark romance (which can be found through Evernight Publishing), magical realism, weird sci-fi/fantasy, and very implausible creative non-fiction. She recently received Third Place recognition for her submission to the Writer’s Digest Annual Short Story Fiction Contest with her entry titled, "To Harvest Lavender." Coming Soon: LJs queer fiction, “The Stranded Sky Castle” will be featured in the Alpha Male anthologies from Evernight Publishing.
Connect to L.J. on Facebook, L.J.'s Twitter page, or L.J. on Instagram.
Scenes for the Senses… audio/visual art
Lingering Libra
Each month, Read Gallo treats us to a mesmerizing few minutes in the dreamy world of a free-flowing watercolor brush. Relax and let your mind wander as our artist-in-residence captures a moment from “A Day Worth Remembering,” this edition’s Fantasy Romance by LJ Longo.
Poet-Tree …
Once again, we welcome our Substack neighbor, Hattie Hayes, to another Romance edition of Dharma Direction. Born during Libra season, Hattie’s personal take on this month’s zodiac speaks to the elusive balance of love’s life.
Poem by Hattie Hayes
Originally printed in Moss Puppy Magazine
Read time: Under 2 minutes
“Libra”
On my best days as a minor deity, everything the stars indicated would manifest exactly as advertised. Outranked by Aphrodite, I guided the least loves, the summer crushes, the feeblest flirtations, the loves that pass soundlessly, painlessly, out of a life. You couldn’t call it honest work; so little is. I filled more days with joy than I emptied. Mostly my stakes were low. Mostly I could execute the cosmos’ instructions without impediment. Hearts, though – mortal hearts will take you by surprise. Now and again I’d nock my arrows, set my approach, and find my lover met a greater love before mine. They rarely knew it themselves, but the roachscuttle underthrum can only be honest. Once I descended upon a woman who was to endure a three-month affair with the most boring refrigerator repairman in Pasadena. In the elevator, where I found her, she stood three polite feet from the love of her life, the man she would spend fifty years with, the person whose skull was shaped like the pads of her thumbs. Who was I to embroil her in pitiful infatuation when sustenance was in her reach? This is how I got fired. Before their elevator car could reach the ground, I compelled him to speak, with no clear reason, of the river he grew up with, the thing he loved most until the moment she spoke. Before they reached the sidewalk, the neighbors fell into a rhythm that would shelter the rest of their days. A minor deity, but still a deity. I know how precious mortal lives are. I see no sense in waiting. I see no sense in love, either, but then again, I wasn’t looking very hard.
Next up: Scorpio, the Scorpion
October 24 - November 22
Coming next week … The Angel Edition by Debbie Abbott
Read about how Barbiel, the Angel of Blessings, could also be considered an Angel of Unanswered Prayers. He is incredibly patient when showing us what we didn’t know we didn’t want.
Publisher’s Note ~
Thanks for reading/subscribing; we appreciate your support. Watch for our contributors’ posts on their social media platforms throughout each zodiac season as they share their stories and visions of the Dharma motto:
#GowiththeFlow
~ Debbie Abbott, publisher/editor