Free Fungus of the Heart by Jeremy C. Shipp

drop of optimism dilutes my terror as soon as a girl in green appears atop a boulder.
    “How do you do that?” I say.
    She jumps and lands in front of me. “Do what?”
    “Not fly.”
    “That’s easy. I just don’t become a bird.”
    “Is it common for children to become birds?”
    “Not common at all, I’m afraid. I’d love to fly. At least for a few days of the year.”
    “Why?”
    She gazes up at the horrible blue void. “The sky’s beautiful. Don’t you think?”
    I try to imitate her warm expression, but I can’t see through her eyes. “I don’t like the sky.”
    “Don’t worry. You will someday.” She touches my arm.
    And in that moment, I release my grip on the shrub.
    And I don’t soar to my death.
    So I pick up my weapon once more, but the jar of excrement slips from my bloody hand. “Shit!”
    “What is that?” the girl says.
    “Porridge. Are there many monsters around here?”
    “It doesn’t smell like porridge.”
    “Never mind that. What about the monsters?”
    “I’m the Girl Who Monsters Fear.” She takes my hand. “I’ll protect you.”
    I believe her.
    And for some strange reason, I want to run at her as fast as I can. I want to smash into her, and jumble pieces of me with pieces of her.
    Maybe she’s a wife waiting to happen.
    But I don’t want to make my father’s mistake. He fell in love with the Woman Who Can’t Bear Children, in spite of her mortality. And he suffered the consequences.
    The day I came into being, my mother ceased to exist.
    And one day, a monster will refuse to fear the Girl Who Monsters Fear, and she’ll probably disappear too.
    In the end, I need to find a partner I can’t love to help me create life.
    So I release the girl’s hand, and escape the trap.
    *
    The door I knock on tonight looks almost exactly like the door I passed through to enter this world.
    Or maybe not. My memories like to play with me sometimes.
    But I’m not in the mood for games.
    So I ignore the door and focus on the man.
    “I’m sorry to bother you, sir,” I say. “But I’m tired and hungry. I haven’t eaten for days.”
    The man shrugs. “I couldn’t care less.”
    “You couldn’t?”
    “No.”
    I smile. “Are you in need of a servant? I’d be happy to work for food and shelter.”
    The man rubs his beard, then opens the door wide.
    I follow him inside.
    His home would remind me of every other home in the area, if not for the pyramid of stacked excrement jars.
    “What can I do for you?” I say.
    He motions to the far wall. “Everyone in the world wants to live inside my cabinet, but I hate when people stay in there. So I need you to stay in there and stand guard.”
    “But if you hate when people go in there, won’t you hate when I go in there?”
    “No.”
    “Why?”
    “Because you don’t count.”
    “Why not?”
    The man sighs. “It’s a complicated issue. And on my list of things I hate, complicated issues are ranked fourteen. That’s fourteen out of six thousand and twenty seven. So you can understand my reluctance to answer your question.”
    “Of course.”
    “So you’ll take the job?”
    I nod.
    And the man forces me into the cabinet, closes the door, and locks me in.
    I’m home again.
    *
    Sometimes, the Man Who Can’t Smile allows me to join him for dinner, but I don’t think he yearns for my company the way I yearn for yours. I think he likes to watch me enjoy my meal the way he can’t anymore.
    But the dinners never end well, because he can’t taste through my mouth, no matter how hard he tries.
    So like always, he knocks over the table, and says, “Get back in the cabinet, Boy.”
    I don’t. “I’m not going to help you anymore, unless you help me bring Salvador to life.”
    “Who’s Salvador?”
    I pull you out of my pouch.
    And the Man scoffs. “What a stupid-looking cup.”
    “He’s not stupid,” I say.
    “I didn’t say he’s stupid. I said he’s stupid-looking. Although I’m sure he’s as stupid as he