Stingy Jack

Timmy turned to the carved out pumpkin on his windowsill, and regarded it with wide-eyed wonder.

“They say that Jack is still out there, roaming the night, carrying his ember in a hollowed out pumpkin.  It’s believed that on every Halloween, he chooses a new pumpkin to be his lantern.  Who knows?  Maybe this Halloween, he’ll choose yours.”

With the story over, Grandpa said goodnight and turned off the lights.  Alone, Timmy lay in his bed, the covers up to his chin, watching the windowsill.  He could still see the pumpkin there, its outline clear in the moonlight.

In time, Timmy fell asleep.  In his dreams, he was haunted by the image of a dark stranger walking down a lonely trail, carrying a carved out pumpkin with a single burning ember inside to light the way.  As he tossed and turned in his sleep, he could see the outline of his own pumpkin, its carved out faced suddenly glowing from a light within.

When he woke up that morning, it was Halloween.

And his pumpkin was gone…





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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)