Years ago I took a creative writing class. This was in either my freshman or sophomore year of college and I loved it. It's actually quite a challenge to come up with a story and write it down. You could start with 'Once upon a time...' or 'It was a dark and stormy night...' or even 'The wind was whistling through the trees and...." You've still got to tell the story: what happened? What was it about? Who was in it and what happened to them?
I came up with the idea for a short story contest and, having never done such a contest before, didn't know what to expect. I wondered to myself: do people even write short stories anymore? I didn't know if I would get no entries or a hundred. The deadline for the contest was this past Saturday. I'm pleased to say that I got one entry...and I'm pleased to feature it here on Mosaic Mandalas. The idea was to write a short story about The Last Pumpkin on Earth and begin with the sentence: See this lonely little pumpkin? Contest winner extraordinaire Lizette Garrido submitted this wonderful story. Thank you Lizette!
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THE LAST PUMPKIN ON EARTH
by Lizette Garrido
See this lonely little pumpkin? Sitting all alone on the window-sill, he leans closer to the cold glass. He could hear the wind pushing the trees toward the house, almost teasingly, as if reaching for his plain-undecorated self. He wished that the tree could just reach through the window and graciously carve eyes into his skin so he would be able to view the world around him. However, he didn’t need eyes to know that all the other pumpkins were gone. Halloween was over. The excited chatter of children had long ago faded away, along with his hope of participating in the one night of the year that all pumpkins live for.
A pumpkin’s whole purpose in life is to provide entertainment for kids. To see them laugh, admire, compliment or even fear their carved faces was a thrill that all pumpkins thrived on. It was what they were created for. When Halloween night came to an end pumpkins immediately began to decompose and then disappeared altogether, with a feeling of self-satisfaction. Sadly, this lonely pumpkin was forgotten and was left un-carved. An un-carved pumpkin cannot fulfill his purpose on Halloween and thus he cannot move on. Instead he is forced to live in a life of solitude and sadness. The pumpkin heaves a lonely sigh.
‘What am I supposed to do now?’ he thought to himself. ‘The family I’m with will probably stow me away in a box until next Halloween. That is, unless they decide to use a mechanical pumpkin again.’
The following day the pumpkin was placed in a box among other Halloween decorations which was then relocated to the garage. Time passed by and before the following Halloween arrived, the family moved out of their house.
‘No! Please don’t go. Don’t leave me here!’ The pumpkin pleaded in his mind, as he heard the moving van and the voices grow farther and farther away. ‘At least come back and finish me off,’ he thought miserably. ‘Maybe if I was cut into little pieces or set on fire I could decompose and move on like the others.’
Days turned into months as the dust fell down onto the last pumpkin on earth. No one could hear his internal cries. No one came close to finding him in the darkness. Years later he woke from his depressive slumber to the sound of the garage opening. He became more alert when he heard footsteps, and yet he didn’t dare to hope again. A few hours later he felt the box he was in being lifted and opened. The lonely pumpkin felt a device against his soft skin and for the first time; colors and light entered his vision. He saw a little girl with green eyes and dark hair smiling down at him.
“Look at how cute you’re becoming!” she exclaimed as she carved a happy mouth onto the pumpkin. “Just in time for Halloween too!”
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