Flash Fiction Theme- Pumpkins- Given to me by Cara Gordon
Pumpkins sit on the ground in rows, waiting for little hands to grab them up and take them home. Oranges ones, white ones, and even small green ones still working on growing. Big ones, medium ones, bumpy ones, smooth ones.
All the pumpkins dance in the night, then wait during the day to be picked. Little hands, big hands, medium hands, snatch pumpkins left and right. The pumpkins can hear laughter and singing whenever families join them in the fields.
One little pumpkin sits alone near the back of the field. It’s not so bumpy, not so smooth, and not quite orange. It isn’t white, nor is it green and still growing, but it still isn’t quite orange. The farmer didn’t know what color it was, but he feels something tell him that the right person will come for it soon. So whenever anyone came to pick a pumpkin, he would steer them clear of the pumpkin.
One cool fall day, a family comes to the pumpkin patch to find their perfect carving pumpkins. The family takes a hayride to the fields and once it stops, the four of them hop off. Hand in hand, the two little girls, their mom, and their dad, walk around the field.
As they venture closer to the back of the field, they each grab a pumpkin they liked. All except for the youngest. The oldest daughter picks a lumpy white pumpkin.
Dad grabs a large, almost smooth orange pumpkin. The mom finds a beautiful white and green Cinderella pumpkin. The only one who hasn’t found a pumpkin yet is the youngest daughter. They keep looking for a pumpkin for her.
The farmer spots the family as they continue their search. He walks over to them and talks to the parents. He compliments the oldest on her find and asks the littlest one what she’d like for a pumpkin. A white one, an orange one, maybe one that is smooth. Maybe she’d like a small one, or possibly a large one.
The youngest just shrugs, keeping her eyes down at the field, and looks at the pumpkins they pass. The farmer glances up and sees they are getting closer to the odd pumpkin. He cocks his head to the side and suddenly he knew the little girl was the one for that special pumpkin. The little girl is ready to give up on the pumpkins in the back when her mom makes a sound.
Her mom kneels down and points at the not quite orange pumpkin. “Look how pretty.”
The little girl’s face lights up and she runs over to the pumpkin. She kneels down and runs her hands over the not so bumpy but not so smooth skin on the not quite orange pumpkin. The farmer walks over and sees how happy the little girl is with the pumpkin.
“I think I was supposed to save this pumpkin for you,” he says. “Something told me to not let anyone buy it. Now I know why.” He reaches past the little girl, pulls out a knife, and cuts it off the vine. Placing the knife in its place on his side, he hands the pumpkin to her. She hugs the pumpkin close.
“Thank you!” She jumps to her feet and runs over to her family.
The farmer smiles and follows them so he can drive the tractor and hay train back to the front. He can’t wait for the family and the others to enjoy the rest of what his family’s farm has to offer. He couldn’t help but get a little teary-eyed when he watches the little girl cradle the not so orange pumpkin happily.