A graveyard seemed a peculiar location for a pumpkin patch. Tombstones, fresh mounds, wilting flowers, mourner’s remnants… and a small collection of orange orbs stands out from the drab landscape. Even from a distance you couldn’t help notice they were all the same size: average; none puny or gigantic, all just right. As if chosen. You had to get really close to notice the dripping orange paint, the stumps still bleeding into the earth, and the faces that needed no carving.
- Copyright: © 2007 James Lacey
Hurrying down the boreen homewards under a harvest moon Finuncane wondered, how long until midnight? Tomorrow was samhain, when the worlds collided and the dead walked the land.
A stranger fell in with him, a dark figure on the country lane. Finuncane said howyeh but the other stayed silent.
And Finuncane thought he knew who walked with him.
Hoping for two birds from a single stone, Finuncane asked the stranger had he the time at all? And the stranger, in a voice from behind the sky, said it had just turned midnight when he left Hell.
- Copyright: © 2007 Kevin Sweeney
Akimi posed naked on the banqueting table. She thought of the money as caterers arranged copious amounts of fruit over and around her.
Halloween guests arrived, witches, vampires, ghouls–spectacular costumes. Akimi hid her embarrassment as the fruit was consumed, exposing her. A cardinal proffered a drink “against the chill.” The amber liquid burned in her veins.
He crushed grapes over her bare breast and roved his tongue around the nipple. Powerless, she could neither move nor cry out, even when he bit deeply and tore away a mouthful of her flesh. The feast began at midnight’s first chime.
- Copyright: © 2007 Oonah V Joslin
