A Jagged Grin at Dusk

A jagged slice of amber light grinned at me from the top porch step. *Heh-heh...* No slowing down. I scrambled up the weathered cedar planks and lunged straight at the stout orange belly—*thump!* A real carved pumpkin, scooped clean and humming with a flickering yellow bulb inside. The crooked stem lid wobbled loose with a raspy scrape, tilting open just enough. I hooked both paws over the moist, notched rim and peered deep into the fiery hollow. The sweet, earthy scent of autumn pulp rushed straight into my snout, while my ears cast long, dancing silhouettes across the wooden door.