Mushrooms by CLS Sandoval

My mom rarely let me have cotton candy, but as I lay with my back against the dew-covered grass on that hill in Green Valley, that’s exactly what the clouds looked like. The sun shined bright enough to make my eyes want to close. My Sunday school teacher, Miss Jackie, had said that everything we could see in nature was made by God. I wondered if that included the mushrooms, and how long it would take. It must have been about twenty minutes—or it could have been two…my seven-year-old self had very little sense of time. I had found the fungus growing in my backyard. I presumed I would fall into Heaven in just a moment. I didn’t see the point of actually living life, since Miss Jackie had impressed upon me that the ultimate goal was being with God, like Jesus already was. Circa 1988, I thought I was ready to go. 

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