“The Pumpkin on Maple Street”
Every Halloween, a single pumpkin appeared on the porch of the old Miller house.
No one lived there—hadn’t for years—but every October 31st, right at dusk, the pumpkin glowed with a warm orange light.
This year, curious twelve-year-old Ellie decided to wait and see who put it there.
She hid behind the fence as the sun slipped away.
At exactly seven o’clock, a small figure walked up the steps—a boy in tattered clothes, pale as moonlight.
He placed the pumpkin gently on the porch, lit it with a candle, and whispered,
“Happy Halloween, Mom.”
Then he faded, like smoke on the wind.
When Ellie ran to the porch, she saw the pumpkin’s carved face smiling softly…
and inside, instead of a candle, a tiny heart-shaped flame flickered in the dark. 🕯️
stake: rirure