The Mushroom Farmer, Book Two, Chapter 3

The penumbrae came upon the mf suddenly, along with immediate understanding they had been with him ever since he became alive. “That’s a prismatic lens flare,” the mf’s self-dispensing optometrist spoke into his ear. “Very much so,” observed the mf’s True Inner Self, the Standard-Bearing mf among the many varietals of personality inhabiting his brainpan.Continue reading “The Mushroom Farmer, Book Two, Chapter 3”

The Mushroom Farmer, Book 2, Chapter 1

The broccoli seedlings he had put out for the taking were all taken, and so too were the carrots, gone-gone. Somebody else in the neighborhood now had a more verdant garden. That’s a huge light-attractor for the mf, and so is the vivid orange and blue combination of the few remaining oranges at the bottom of the blue plastic bucket.

The Mushroom Farmer, Chapter 18

Say this for the mf, he had spotted the bedraggled purple cauliflowers and delicately transplanted them into this spot where they were now not merely unbedraggled but also thriving, thriving, thRivNG on a cold peak COVID-19 pandemic Southern California winter morning of more clouds than sun; rain hanging in air barely mid-50 degrees Fahrenheit.