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.