Shrooms Q, Jack And Jill -

Jack decided he was a god. Not a vengeful one, but the god of small things—dust motes, the crack in the ceiling that looked like a river delta. He peeled off his shirt and began to dance slowly, arms undulating like a sea anemone. “The mushrooms are the planet’s immune system,” he announced. “We’re the virus.”

“No,” Jill and Q said in unison.

Jill, meanwhile, felt her training kick in. She checked her pulse: 98, fine. She drank water. She guided Q away from the mirror when he started whispering to his reflection. “You’re safe,” she said. “You took a drug. It will end.” shrooms q, jack and jill