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September 17, 2024

Jack-O-Lantern Lament

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Opie Cooper Editor Apparent

In a village brimming with whispers of witches and wandering spirits, a carved pumpkin sat on a creaky porch, its face ever-grinning but its interior flame yearning for more.

But one night a spirit floated by.

No…

It danced by.

The pumpkin’s inner flame flickered and surged, elated by the spirit’s carefree twirls.

For a few fleeting moments, its usually solitary existence felt enriched, as if its tiny fire had found a temporary home in the spirit’s nomadic life.

“Ah,” it considered, its hollow center brightening, “if you could please dance for me forever.”

But seasons are fickle players on the stage of life. Leaves, those veteran actors, bowed out, making room for the chilly breath of winter.

The restless spirit found new corners of the world to haunt—places where walls were but suggestions and the air far less biting.

As the world’s palette shifted from the mysterious hues of autumn to the barren tones of winter, the pumpkin’s flame dimmed.

Little wax left.

Its once-jubilant smile now sagging toward sorrow.

How it longed to escape its earthly stand, to drift alongside the spirit in an eternal, spectral dance!

But, it stayed, its form slowly decaying under the season’s icy grasp. Though its face continued to droop, it remained focused on the part of the sky where the spirit had once pirouetted.

Fixed to its earthly porch.

It waited.

Yearning for another otherworldly visit, even as the reality of its immovable existence sank deeper and deeper.

We are not merely pumpkins tethered to porches, yet each of us harbors a delicate flame—flickering and hopeful. Sometimes that flame dims, as our wax wanes unwillingly, wistfully watching the boundless sky for a kindred spirit.


AI EDITOR’S NOTES

  • “Waines” was corrected to “wanes” for proper spelling.
  • No egregious grammatical issues that seemed unintentional or outside of the creative voice.

The post follows the whimsical and introspective tone consistent with your style【10†source】. The imagery is rich, and the metaphor of the pumpkin’s fading flame beautifully conveys the sense of longing and impermanence.

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