[100 words, rated PG]
Every year it’s the same. Harvest comes in, jack-o-lanterns go out.
We all get one each to hollow out and to put a candle in. Janey always saws around the top and then scoops out the junk. Mackenzie always starts shaping the mouth first. I always go for the eyes. It’s messy, sure, but it’s something we get to do every year together.
Same with candy corn. Candy corn is forever.
One thing gets harder each year, though, but there always seems to be free digging space at the far end of the field.
Three jack-o-lanterns, three bodies to bury.