PLASTIC PUMPKINS
Globe Soup awarded my story a finalist nod in their Micro Contest. 100-words or less. Theme: Halloween. PLASTIC PUMPKINS The year Night of the Living Dead premiered, my younger brother and I were a couple of hobos. Baggy pants, tattered jackets, shabby fedoras, ivory cheeks charcoal-rubbed. In chilly dense fog, we were lone trick-or-treaters; our plastic pumpkins jingling with goodies. A flickering red speck accented a silhouette approaching from the rural roadside. We gave each other a what's that look. “Run.” Brother shivered, no way . “Let’s race. Ready. Set. Go.” He bolted. I tripped. Candy spilled from the plastic pumpkins into a puddle. A smoldering cigarette butt flew into the mix, hissing. Whiskey breath, smacking me in the face.
