Even in the last lingering month of autumn, so like winter that it had long driven thoughts of romance out of most fraggle minds, the Kissing Chasm lived up to its name.

Fragrant green grass dotted with morning glories grew tall in their magical pocket of eternal summertime around the chasm itself. The clear water filling the crack drifted by at a lazy babble singing a song of lazy contentment to two tiny frogs sitting upon a lilypad.

The scene was only broken by a faint gentle voice.

"Kermit dear? Are you and Jane playing in that cave water hole again? Supper's ready!"

"Okay Mom!" The little frog replied, as both of the green creatures hopped upward into the sunlight.

In the background, not very far away, the storyteller tossed a new handful of flower petals over her head and laughed where she lay under a handsewn paper parasol.

Only a few hours of sleep separated the previous night to this day, but that hardly mattered now. All those hours, after all, were better filled by the floating gentleman who had insisted on keeping watch for villains by her bedpost all night, and had more than enough stories of the glory of the Elder Clan to last another lifetime.

Somewhere, however, his stories had hit an unspoken sad note and the two had ended up at this Kissing Chasm, where Fredrick now sat floating above a mossy rock, playing a new game.

"And your favorite food is blueberry and lemon..."

"..tarts!" Harriet finished, clapping her hands together in amazement. "Oh, how in the rock did you know that?"

The ghost shrugged, taking out a long fancy sword from beneath his cloak and beginning to shine its' equally transparent obsidian blade.

"It is the talent I was given to fulfill my dearest wish in life. I can not swear to love forever if I do not love truly."

"Oh, you are a perfect knight..." The storyteller sighed, sitting up to reach out a hand toward him and then stopping short. "Well, nearly perfect."

The ghost wrinkled his muzzle, sending his sword back from where it had come in a puff of smoke, as he drifted down to eye level with the bookish fraggle.

"Something about me does not please you?"

"Well..it is just..I am use to a gentleman fraggle being a tad more..solid." Harriet began in a sympathetic, gentle tone. "But you are a ghost so..."

To her surprise the ghost laughed, a low rich sound that filled the air at the same time as another puff of smoke, this one much bigger with the tell tale glitter of magic.

"Will this do?" The fraggle now floating in the air asked.

She could only stutter. He looked..alive...he looked...

"Perfect.."

"As are you.." The very solid dark orange fraggle with silver hair replied, leading follow; now sporting a mustache and a silver and gold pit helmet that matched his armor.

"Oh no..please, My family still lives by the old code." Harriet whispered despite herself, drawing away quickly.

Fredrick tumbled backward in midair, shaking his head as if trying to clear it before nodding.

"How silly of me to think to moonlight snuggle with a maiden before we would be lifemated. Death must have these lowsome effects on the mind, truly."

"Lifemated?" Harriet asked in a bright cheery tone, her tail perking up at the word.

"Surely, it is your dearest wish is it not?" The newly explorer attired ghost asked where he stood upside down as if it was the most common place thing in the world.

"Well, yes but...there is something," She stuttered again, suddenly interested in her hands as she wrung them nervously. "...right now,I have always wished for more.."

If any other living creature had been at Kissing Chasm at that uncommon hour, in that unromantic season, they might have seen the just as uncommon sight of a tall fraggle spended upside down in midair, as he made the slow romantic gesture of raising the earthbound fraggles' hand to his lips.

"Harriet Fraggle, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Pumpkin Festival?"

"Yes." The storyteller replied with tearful eyes.

He asked me on a date.

The storyteller sat in the glow of her bedroom lamp, its' central candle ,bathing the small space with a golden glow that matched her sunny mood.

..A mood that, at the moment, her age old habit of talking to herself was trying to undo tirelessly bit by bit.

Why wouldn't he have?

Harriet paused, replacing her quill into its' small gourd of ink and a shutting the book she had been writing in.

Well...no one ever has before..in my whole life.

She sighed, lifting the large volume to the top of a nearby pile that represented her lifes' work, where it wobbled dangerously before settling down.

What about your date for the end of month school?

That was cousin Clark. The one with the twitch that saw invisible spiders remember?

The storyteller sat back down in a huff, blowing a stray piece of hair out of her eyes as she looked into her tall magic mirror.

Oh...

None of that matters now..Fredrick is perfect...Fredrick is perfect and he wants me..He makes me feel...pretty.

She reached for her brush and hair ribbons, that like most of the items that had anything to do with her appearance had long ago taken on a lite mask of dust.

Is he perfect?

Of course he is, he can be anything I want him to be and knows me even better than..better than...

The small yellow fraggle paused mid-brush to glance upward at the painting above her head, the one of a brave young explorer posing heroically..the one she had made the day of his job choosing...

If that is perfect love why do you still think about...?

The room was filled with a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob as the only truly living creature within it finally spoke aloud to no one.

"Only forty years old and already an old fool..."

The gold colored head built into the top molding of the magic mirror shook off the edge of sleep, beganing to hum as the storytellers' low voice rose to meet it.

Lately when I'm in my room all by myself... in the solitary gloom I call to myself...

A pair of bookworms stopped their chewing near the fraggles' elbow, rearing up to add another layer if humming to the song as she went back to brushing her hair.

Hey there, you with the stars in your eyes,

love never made a fool of you, you used to be too wise.

She pulled her hair up, fastening it with a fancy clip before shaking it out into a messy pile of fuzz again, stopping to gaze with wide eyes at the painting.

Hey there, you on that high flying cloud,

Though he won't throw a crumb to you, you think one day he'll come to you...

She took the painting from its' wall hook, hugging it tightly as she began to spin in lazy dance like circles in the small room.

Better forget him, him with his nose in the air,

He has you dancing on a string, break it and he won't care...

She gave the painting a last tight hug before replacing it on the wall, tracing it's outline with a finger slowly.

Will you take this advice, I give to you like a mother?

Or am I not getting through too clear?

Am I too much in love to hear?

Is it all going in one ear and out the other?

Harriet sat back down at her desk with a thump, burying her head in her arms when the face of her magic mirror head began to join in.

Hey there, you with the stars in your eyes?

She peeped out of her fingers meekly.

"Are you talking to me?"

The mirror nodded.

Love never made a fool of you...

She sighed, reaching for the fancy hair-clip again.

"Not until now..."

You used to be too wise. The mirror finished.

"Yes, I was once..."

The storyteller agreed, fiddling with the clips' clasp with hands that were starting to tremble slightly as she picked up the song again.

Will you take this advice I give to you like a mother?

Or are you not seeing things too clear?

Am I just too far gone to hear?

She fixed herself with a serious stare in the mirror as she twisted her hair upward again, draping her best robe with a necklace of tiny pearls that caught the candlelight.

Is it all going in one ear and out the other?