Why Pumpkins Glow Back — Under a licorice-dark sky, Wren carried one borrowed spark in her satchel and searched the mooncrop patch for a place it would stay. Read the full story →
Under a licorice-dark sky, Wren carried one borrowed spark in her satchel and searched the mooncrop patch for a place it would stay. It hissed like a tiny kettle and jumped away from every leaf, stone, and fence post. The old pumpkins watched with blank faces, smelling of cold earth and dry vines. Wren wanted her spark settled before the moon yawned shut, but the patch had no lantern, no hearth, no corner that felt like home.
A bat squeaked over the crooked trees. “Try the quiet one.”
Wren tapped the plainest pumpkin, the one everyone stepped around, and heard a hollow tunk-tunk inside. She lifted its lid of stem and leaves. Hidden there, where nobody thought to look, was a little room lined with golden seeds, warm as bread crust. The spark curled into it at once. Wren carved it two eyes and a grin so it could breathe out light.
Ever since that night, pumpkins glow back when a welcome spark finds the room inside them. If you spot Wren above the vines, can you tell which pumpkin first answered her?
