Jack’s Pumpkin

By Christopher Mattravers-Taylor

A smile twitched my lips; the pumpkin would be perfect for Jack. I drove home from the farm and spent hours with my tongue protruding, carving the tough flesh with a kitchen knife. A malformed Spiderman’s face, my son’s favourite superhero, emerged from the squash. Jack never failed to laugh at my artistry.

I placed a lit candle in the pumpkin. Alongside a small plastic cauldron full of M&M’s, the sweets he loved, I lowered it onto the narrow mound of earth.

Tears moistened my cheeks, like a drizzle on weathered stone. Halloween had always been Jack’s favourite time of year.