Tonight is the night. It is All Hallows' Eve. Big and round, yellow and orange, the pumpkins grin at you. Everywhere you go they sit on porches, railings, doorsteps, ogling you, laughing at you with sharp teeth and wicked eyes. At night their ghastly grimaces burn in the darkness like haunting creatures – lurking and waiting, ready to pounce. They look as if they might come alive any moment to haunt you, to taunt you. The wind howls and echoes their imaginative laughter from the trees. It feels as if they'd come for you, and maybe they do. Run, don't walk!
YOU ARE READING
Weekly Writing Exercises
General FictionEvery week a new writing exercise -- this is my ambition. Drabble, poem or short story, you will find everything here. The topics are variegated, you may even prompt me. And there are updates every week!
