Flash Fiction Theme – Halloween
The candle light flickers in the dark night. An owl hoots off in the distance as it takes flight, having spotted a mouse. Trees blow from side to side as the cool fall breeze spins through the neighborhood. One candle sits in a pumpkin unlit. It watches as ghosts, witches, and superheroes walk by.
No one walks up to the drive to see the pumpkins or asks for candy. The owner loved Halloween. But the owner hasn’t come out yet to light the candle or its friends yet. The candle looks at the house, wondering where the owner was.
“Trick or Treat!”
Youthful voices ring out on either sides of the house and the candle pouts. It wants to shine as bright as the other candles nestled in their pumpkins up and down the neighborhood. It wants to hear kids shout ‘Trick or Treat’ to the old woman who lives at its house. But here it sits, waiting for the old woman to come and light it.
Growing frustrated, the little candle pushes itself on its side, which took quite a while, and squeezes out of the mouth. It stops and looks around, not wanting to be seen by any of the little children, and waits for a group to pass by.
Once the coast is clear, the candle rolls to the front door. It rolls into the door a few times, hoping the old woman will hear it and come to the door. Then she can light the little candle and its friends.
Nothing! Grumbling to itself, the candle rolls around the house to find a way inside. It stops when it sees the back sliding glass door open. Perfect. The little candle rolls to it, but it can’t get over the bump. It rolls backwards, gets up speed, and can finally hop over the bump. It stops just inside and looks around.
It’s dark inside, but the candle can hear the television on. She must have fallen asleep in front of the TV again. The candle rolls around, lost, and ends up in the back bedroom. It looks around, but there is no old lady. The candle rolls from room to room until it finds the living room. The TV is on some old movie and the old lady sits in her chair, eyes closed.
The little candle sighs and rolls over, hitting the old woman’s foot a few times. The old woman doesn’t move. The candle hears something behind it and turns to see a masked man leaving through the back door, closing it behind him. The candle looks back at the old woman, the light from the TV flickering over her face.
Her eyes stare up at the ceiling and are glossy. Her mouth is slack. Blood slips down her neck and staining her collar. Her wrinkled skin looks gray and lifeless. The candle glances back at the closed door, sad.
Now who is going to put it back in the pumpkin and light it up for Halloween and the trick or treaters?