Here are the rules: Entrants have to write a Halloween-themed story no longer than 100 words. (In Halloween parlance that means the story is “Fun Size.”) This story also must contain the words “costume,” “haunt,” and “dark.”
So, here’s my submission! Enjoy!
“I’m the black ninja! Hiyah!”
“That costume is too black.”
“The better to haunt my victim’s dreams!”
“Well, you’re going to have to haunt their dreams with a little reflector tape. Stand still.”
“Mom! Ninjas can’t reflect! They gotta disappear!”
“I don’t want you to disappear into the fender of a car. Take this flashlight, too.”
“It’s cold out. Get your coat.”
“But my coat is green! Light green!”
“Then you’ll be an adorable light green ninja. Out you go.”
“Ninjas aren’t adorable!”
“Have a good time, sweetie! And don’t come back without dark chocolate!”
I have never liked Halloween. Even as a kid, I found the act of going door to door begging for candy to be unseemly.
I disliked the itchy discomfort of the costume. I disliked being stared at. (When you wear a costume, you are, pretty much, giving people permission to stare.) I disliked running all over the neighborhood like a dodo when, at home, a perfectly good TV was going unwatched.
And, at the end of the evening, all I had to show for my efforts was a sack full of itty bitty candy bars that I would’ve never picked out for myself at a store. (Seriously, is Krackle anyone’s favorite candy bar? Answer: No.)
Long story short, I gave up on Halloween as soon as it was socially acceptable. The ominous power of peer pressure kept me going until the fourth grade (and, yes, I’m still holding that grudge, Carl Johnson).
Now that’s a Halloween tradition I can get behind. Woo!
Here are the rules: Entrants have to write a Halloween-themed story no longer than 100 words. (In Halloween parlance that means the story is “Fun Size.”) This story also must contain the words “broomstick,” “creak,” and “pumpkin.”
So here is my humble submission. Enjoy!
“Nibbles,” sighed Chester Cat. “You’re supposed to carve a pumpkin.”
“They’re too big,” the guinea pig replied. “So I am carving a Halloween-o Jalapeño. Scary, huh? Does it make you want to run away?”
“No,” Chester sniffed. “That wouldn’t make anyone run away.”
They heard the creak of floorboards and the clatter of the broomstick Buster used for fetch.
“I bet it’ll make Buster run.”
“Let’s see,” Nibbles challenged. Then he shouted. “BUSTER! SNAAACK!”