MicroHorror

Samhain, nearly midnight:

The gravestone glows like pale bone under the moonlit sky.
Her belly bulges with the seed of her lover, ripe and ready. Her hands glisten with his blood.
She stands, immersed in both worlds, between both worlds.
She tosses the shovel and climbs down, pulling the dirt down atop her.
Her son will come with the dawning new year,
If he can dig his way out.