thepumpkin

Submitted by Laurie Griffith for Hannah

A face watched: waxy, orange, primed and shiny; ponytail stem tied with a green, leafy bow. Church bells tolled, hearkening all swathed in black to a marble-toothed maze.

The carved mouth wobbled, structure bowing inwards, as artificial light flickered inside a pair of hollow, triangle eyes, wet with summer mist and ringed by a curling egde of charred black.

Heart scraped clean and dumped aside, there was room for rot the children wouldn't see. The pumpkin sat pretty, still lovely, ignoring a core charred black from the blistering heat.

of a one-night performance burning too hot, too fast. The Baptists slammed their Bibles shut, clinching the breeze rustling the freshly piled dirt and the 'wisp' of a candle finally snuffed out.

Rusty, white buses

Sharp needles of the sun