by Donna Cuttress

The knife pierced the toughened skin with a pop!  Beneath, the flesh sweats and oozes. It sticks to my fingers which I wipe on my apron. I desperately try to be neat, but everything is slimy. My hands shake as I hack, slice and scoop.

The sloppy innards get dropped into the bin and I say goodbye. I proudly place it on the doorstep and light the candle within it. The eye-holes illuminate. His grin beams, light bleeds onto the ground. I’m satisfied with my work and vow, next year…I’ll use a pumpkin instead of Mr Jack’s head.

Donna Cuttress

Donna Cuttress is from Liverpool, U.K. and has had work published by ‘Crooked Cat’,’FoF Publishing’ ‘Firbolg Publishing’, and ‘Flame Tree Publishing’. Her work for ‘The Patchwork Raven’s’ ‘Twelve Days’ is available as an artbook. She has been included in Latchkey Tales and previous ezines by Sirens Call. @Hederah