Night was encroaching. Lulu knew she was getting closer to the cottage as the celebratory singing and harmonizing became louder and louder still.
The wall of trees broke, and the small girl found herself at the precipice of a meadow, all golden and autumnal.
The song echoed across the field, curving around the gourds, whispering between dying dandelions and blooming mugwort.
Lulu sprinted over the grass, and there now was the cottage of the witch, a woman who reveled in simpler magics than others; the Daydreamer, it was all Lulu knew to call the witch.
But she skidded to a stop and her mouth fell agape. Up and down the cottage steps and among the front garden, glowing Jack o’lanterns bobbed and bounced to a glorious moonlight chantey. Each carved face grinned and sang one verse then another.
Above, a cottage window flew open and the Daydreamer poked out her head.
‘It seems charmin at first—all the singin,’ the witch shouted to the girl. ‘But trust me, when the Jacks are still beltin it out in the dead of night, you’ll be wantin to make more than a few fresh pumpkin pies.’
Lulu laughed and the Jack o’ lanterns paid the witch no mind. For they sang on, praising the icy nights, the foretold orange moons, and this, their time to shine… 🎃🎃🎃🎃🌙✨✨
seanpatrickwhiteley 