The moon was high. The curse was not broken.
I sat on a rotting tree trunk, picking moss out of my bra and sulking like a jilted debutante at a barn dance. The swamp croaked around me. Something distant farted in the mud. And in front of me—towering, swollen, radiating tragic dampness—was a mushroom.
Not just any mushroom. A very large, very still mushroom. Slightly phallic. A little tragic. And, apparently, Gregory.
I sniffled. "I loved you, Gregory."
The mushroom didn't respond.
"I truly loved you. With all my virginal heart."
Nothing. Not even a rustle.
"For two whole hours," I added, voice cracking. "Two. I was pure. I was radiant. I did not touch myself. Not even once."
The mushroom pulsed faintly. Or maybe that was just the swamp breathing.
I hugged my knees. "And when I gave you that kiss… when I closed my eyes, ignored the beard, the hooves, the smell, and the way your breath reeked of sulphur and smugness—this is what happened."
I pointed at him. "This."
Gregory, to his credit, remained a mushroom. Big, pale, slightly glowing. Some tiny little barnacles had already claimed his base.
"My little heart ached," I said bitterly. "I was so sincere. You know I'm never sincere. That should've counted for something."
Still no response. Not even a pity spore.
"I kissed you," I hissed, "and you turned into fungus. Do you know how demoralizing that is? I've turned men into sobbing messes, debtors, alcoholics, once into a priest—but never a shiitake."
Somewhere nearby, a frog croaked like it was mocking me.
"I hope you're happy," I snapped at the mushroom. "You are now a vegetarian disappointment. Congratulations."
I leaned forward, nose to cap. "And just so you know, I faked the love part. I tried. I really tried. But nobody with your personality deserves a redemption arc."
Silence.
"Fine," I muttered. "Be like that. Just sit there and absorb moisture. Coward."
Behind me, the Dragon rustled down from a tree and peered over my shoulder. "…Did you try licking him?" he asked.
"Do I look like I'm licking mushrooms for closure?!"
Pause. Then, "Would you like me to fry him with butter?"
"…Give it till dawn."