The pumpkins left in the patch will be a treat for the animals scrounging for food as they prepare for the cold months ahead. Their crop was good this year, with hundreds of different shapes and sizes being purchased at their country roadside stand. They never got tired of seeing the children's faces as they scanned the patch for the perfect one, while Mom bought some apples and a homemade pumpkin pie she couldn't resist. Dad sat in the car listening to the football game, giving a thumbs up as his kid held up a pumpkin for him to see. It was a difficult decision for most kids, as one was too big or too small. One had a flat side while another had a snapped-off stem where somebody probably tried to lift it, and it snapped off.
His wife ran the stand, where she collected payment and put it in an old cigar box she'd used for too many years to remember. She made conversation for those seeking it and just smiled at those who didn't. She spent more time at the stand during harvest time than she did at the house, only leaving to fetch more pies or jars of honey and having her husband watch things, which wasn't always a good idea when he struck up a conversation with a neighbor and let the line grow behind him.
At sundown, they would light up a dozen pumpkins, carved and spaced along the rows to light the way into the patch, where sometimes a ghostly apparition appeared, popping up and screaming with no warning. Kids and adults could be heard gasping in fright, followed by laughter at the well-intended prank. The stand closed for the day at nine o'clock, and two weary farmers sat at the kitchen table counting the money from the cigar box, which no longer closed because of the stack of money it held. Morning came early as the light of a new day found them loading bushels of apples onto the trailer, a dozen pumpkin pies and jars of honey all taken to the stand and displayed. They enjoyed breakfast together before heading down to the stand, where a few cars had already parked, and kids roamed row after row of pumpkins, searching for that perfect one.
At sundown, they would light up a dozen pumpkins, carved and spaced along the rows to light the way into the patch, where sometimes a ghostly apparition appeared, popping up and screaming with no warning. Kids and adults could be heard gasping in fright, followed by laughter at the well-intended prank. The stand closed for the day at nine o'clock, and two weary farmers sat at the kitchen table counting the money from the cigar box, which no longer closed because of the stack of money it held. Morning came early as the light of a new day found them loading bushels of apples onto the trailer, a dozen pumpkin pies and jars of honey all taken to the stand and displayed. They enjoyed breakfast together before heading down to the stand, where a few cars had already parked, and kids roamed row after row of pumpkins, searching for that perfect one.
Mike 2026
Mike 2026
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