The magic of the Pumpkin Queen

The temperature had suddenly plummeted.

An Indian summer that shimmered with golden sunlight blazing on drifts of burnished leaves had somehow slid, overnight, into a dark slush of cold, mud, and clouds of breath hanging in the air.

But on All Hallows’ Eve, the night was punctuated with something magical. 

On each corner, on every doorstep, stood a glimmering lantern. There were flickering eyes; leering, toothy grins, and the gentle scent of warm pumpkin spice permeating the frigid atmosphere.

The Pumpkin Queen kept herself hidden in the shadows, but she watched as troops of children with painted faces in ghoulish costumes made their way around the towns and villages.

And then, when they were gone, she slipped out and gathered up the blackened and charred creations, beckoning their Halloween spirits to run away with her... until next year...

Pearl