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// Monday, November 28, 2011

Pondered a Pumpkin

On a rain-swept night in late September, in a field farthest from the farm, a plump little pumpkin pondered its fate—

The hour draws nigh and I worry,
What will become of me?

Am I to be the pride of someone's porch,
Or smashed to bits on a sidewalk?

Will the punkin chunkers pick me for my perfect shape,
Or will malcontents on Mischief Night turn me into a weapon?

Will I be carved by a master's hand,
Or maimed by greedy little paws?

Perhaps I'll be the featured pie at dessert,
Or the favorite flavor in a seasonal muffin basket.

Oh, to be the figurehead on a Grand Marshal's float, now that would be great! Or the fiery companion of a headless horseman, whose monologue climaxes with:

"Hear me, costumed fools, the witching hour has begun, and you must answer for your depravity, your reverie, and your mockery of All Hallows' Evening. Know this, my trembling little meat sacks, I shall cleave you with great fanfare and draw your spirits into the groaning abyss of my fleshless body. Aha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-haaaa!"

Yes, what a wonderful moment that would be.

But one thing that I try not to consider, though it's with me always, like a demon that cannot be exorcised, is this: If no one wants me, then what thoughts will consume me as I slowly rot in a muddy field?


This work is part of the Leftover Candy collection, which is a set of works inspired by the 2011 Halloween season.

© Copyright 2011 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.

This text composition is a work of fiction. Names, places, institutions, events, incidents, characters, persons, locations, and/or organizations either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Full Creative Writing Disclaimer.