Page 57 of Shroom for Improvement

I knew I’d regret asking, but curiosity had the better of me. Claude was having a conversation with a building. About me. To which I was not privy. “Tell me.”

Claude shook his head. His eyes took on a desperate, pleading quality.

“Don’t I have a right to know? If it’s talking about me?” I said.

“Fine. But I cannot look at you while I tell you this.” Claude breathed hard through his nostrils and angled his body away from mine.

I had a fleeting second of panic, that I wouldn’t like what he was about to say, but I quashed the notion. A house was talking about me. I needed to know what it had said.

“It... Jenny, would like me to mention that you shouldn’t refrain from wa—masturbation. That it’s a healthy and natural way to relieve tension.”

He paused, as though listening for further instruction.

“And Jenny would be more than willing to provide you... us, find us a place to... conduct such matters, and any...” He scraped his hands down his face. “And any aids we may need to, uh, reach those, uh... No, he doesn’t want me to list the aids... Okay, okay. Toys, lubes, graphic novels, et cetera.” He said the last part in a hurried whisper, like he was trying to get the words out as quickly as possible. “Happy now?”

I watched him for a short while. He looked defeated, having immediately returned to his bent-backed, face-palming posture of a few seconds ago. The laughter threatening to burst free from my chest had finally made its way to the surface, and began coming out as wheezes.

“It’s a very kind offer, Jenny,” I said to nowhere in particular. “But I think, on this occasion, abstinence will be the most favourable option for all parties involved.”

Claude looked off into space and rolled his eyes.

“What did it say now?”

“Fuck my life,” Claude whispered before turning to me. I wiped my tears of mirth away on the heels of my hands. “It says we should never forget the house’s motto.”

“It has a motto?”

Claude shrugged, as though he didn’t believe it either.

“Okay, what’s the motto?”

A full two minutes passed before Claude spoke. His face travelled on a journey from scrunched-up, to full shutdown, to the deep furrowed brows of physical agony, to searching for a deity in disbelief, to a final subtle head shake of resignation.

“Amor sui vitas salvat.”

I stared at him for a good twenty seconds longer. The language was familiar. Often used in the plant world. Amor, I think, meant love. But the rest I wasn’t sure about.

“It roughly translates to . . . self-love saves lives.”

Hard to say if it was the motto, that a sentient building had relayed this information to Claude, or Claude himself adorably uncomfortable and squirming over the words, but that was the moment the floodgates to my dam of giggles burst wide open. And didn’t seal themselves closed again until we were settled down for dinner that night.

AbsenceAbstinence Makes theHeart Grow FonderCum Shoot Higher

Claude

Neither Sonny nor I could maintain eye contact for longer than one-point-five seconds without bursting into laughter. That, coupled with Jenny’s incessant,“What’s he laughing at? What’s so funny? Why are you laughing now?”in my head, it had all become a little too loud.

Dinner, at least, provided some respite from Jenny’s confused whinging.

Willow served pigeon with sautéed potatoes for me and a wonderfully bright salad for Sonny. Butternut squash, blue cheese, pomegranate seeds, apple slices, and a rainbow ofunrecognisable leaves. Sonny was able to recite the official plant name for each one and devoured the entire dish, leaving not a molecule.

For dessert, we both had pear and chocolate tart with brandy cream. My cheeks heated. From the booze and the company.

But I had forgotten about Jenny’s nagging until we’d placed our napkins back on the table, said goodnight to Willow and Oggy, and headed into the main part of the house and up towards our rooms.

“I have several dining spaces and kitchens. You could eat inside me, you know?” Jenny said.

“That... just sounds wrong,” I replied. Sonny glanced at me and raised a brow. A small shake of my head told him it wasn’t worth the explanation.

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