Word War w/ @goldenglorymindz
3 Min - Prompt: “Can we stay like this a little longer” - Lost
Words: 262

As they sat on the train station bench, the sky was overcast and kind of gray as if even it knew that today was a hard day for her, and for so many others. Anna leaned her head on James’ shoulder, their hands intertwined and lying on her lap. His thumb was tracing gently patterns on the back of her thumb, and everything in her wished that she could stop time right in this moment and stop him from ever having to leave.
“Can ew stay like this for just a little bit longer?” She whispered, her voice cracking slightly on the last word, even as she tried her very best to keep it steady. She had told herself she was going to be strong, and she was determined to keep that promise to herself. She didn’t want him to feel any worse than she knew he already did. She was sure that he hated the idea of having to leave her behind, but the draft didn’t leave any room for argument, nor did it have any sympathy for the newlyweds
James just nodded, not really trusting himself to speak. He knew what she meant. He knew that “just a little bit longer” really meant she didn’t want him to go at all, but they also both knew that wasn’t an option.
The station's loudspeaker crackles continuously with updates. All around them, soldiers and family members are shifting uneasily. They all know this might be their last time together and are trying to make the very, very best of an impossible situation,

Daily: “Matching this session's theme, fall, this daily will be all about pumpkins! Maybe it's an essay on why their good for you or a story from the perspective of a pumpkin, anything to do with a pumpkin counts! Make sure to write 250 words to gain 250 points, and add an extra 100 if you share. Good luck!”

Words: 1,714

The first time Nora met him, at the local pumpkin patch near her house, she was fifteen. She wasn’t looking to make any friends at the time; in fact, it was probably one of the last things on her mind. She was trying to pick up a pumpkin that was significantly heavier than she had anticipated. As she struggles to lift it to try and get it into her little red wagon, it drops, and she gasps as it rolls through the row of plants, stopping at somebody’s feet.

She looks up and sees a boy who looks about her age, who was the one who’d stopped her runaway pumpkin. He was taller than her, though that wasn’t saying much since she was barely 5 feet herself. He had curly brown hair that was a bit messy, but in that kind of way that was endearing.

She couldn’t help the small smile that crossed her face.

The boy smiles back at her, using his boot to push the pumpkin back into an upright position.

“Careful, there,” He said with a small laugh, “This one’s pretty big for someone your size, wouldn’t you say?”

“Guess I just like a challenge,” Nora said with a shrug, trying to ignore the heat she felt rising in her cheeks

He laughed at that, a real kind of laugh, one that felt oddly carefree, like it meant nothing. “Suppose you picked the right pumpkin patch, then”
His name was Caleb, she discovered, and he was the same age as her. He told her that he was in town visiting cousins. After he helped her put the pumpkin back where it belonged (upon Nora admitting that maybe she should get one a little bit smaller so she could actually move it around), they ended up walking the rows together, half helping each other pick pumpkins, half just talking. She liked how he said her name; soft and amused, like it meant something worth remembering. They even competed over who could find the most “personality-filled” pumpkin, naming the misshapen ones like old friends.

When the sky began to blush orange, their families called from opposite ends of the field. Caleb lingered a second longer, his hand brushing hers as they both reached for the same wagon handle
.
“Maybe I’ll see you here next fall,” he said with a crooked grin.

Nora smiled, trying to play it cool. “Maybe.”

But she thought about it all the way home; the crunch of his boots and, more than anything, the way the air felt charged when he said goodbye.

…

The next year, Nora ended up at the same pumpkin patch on the same day she’d been there when she met Caleb. It looked almost the same: same corn field maze, the same rusty wagons to carry around her pumpkin, the same sunflowers blowing in the early autumn wind.
She told herself that she was just here because it was a good patch, that she was here for a pumpkin and maybe a hayride, but that was it. She tried to make herself believe there was no other motive behind coming here. Deep down, she knew she was lying to herself. She was kind of hoping she might find Caleb here.

She knew it was crazy to think that he would be here, that he would even remember who she was. But still, part of her hoped that he would. She had certainly not forgotten him, not even in the year that had passed since their last interaction.

Of course, he didn’t come.

She tried her best not to be disappointed as she paid for her pumpkin before getting in her car and driving home.

She returned once more the year after that, though she pretended it was just family tradition. Then life began to pick up its pace. There was more homework, jobs, plans, and simply growing up. She stopped expecting anything magical to happen in October. But she never stopped liking the smell of pumpkins.

Years later, she couldn’t explain why autumn always made her nostalgic. Maybe it was the colors, or the quiet that came with shorter days. But some part of her still pictured that boy from the patch, laughing in the sunlight, as if the world would always stay that simple.

…

When Nora started college, everything was new. She ended up moving halfway across the country, met new friends, and found new favorite places in her new town. Still, one thing stayed the same: fall was her favorite season, and she was determined to find a new pumpkin patch that she could visit while here for school.

One day, just as Nora was about to sit down and start her essay for her Psych class, her roommate Becca burst into the room and nearly leaped into the chair beside Nora

“Nora!” She gasped with the same energetic grin she always carried (it was one of the things that Nora liked most about her). “Some of us are going to the Fall Harvest Fest; you should come!”

Becca was a native to the area, and as such was always dragging Nora along to some festival or parade or something going on. Nora didn’t mind; it was a great way to get involved with her new community, and Becca had yet to bring her to an event she didn’t have fun at.

So of course, it didn’t take much convincing before Nora was throwing on her boots and was out the door to Becca’s car, on the way to her first fall in her new area.

The festival was chaos in the best way: hay bales and fairy lights, live music, and the smell of caramel apples. The air was sharp and sweet, the kind of cold that nipped your nose but didn’t quite bite. Nora found herself smiling more than she expected to.

Toward the edge of the fairgrounds was a makeshift pumpkin patch for photos. Nora smiled widely when she saw it, the nostalgia of her old pumpkin patch back home hitting her like a wave. She told Becca she was going to go and check it out, and walked over, looking around the area fondly. She crouched down to pick up a small pumpkin, one that fit in the palm of her hand, when she heard an oddly familiar voice from behind her.
“Careful, that one might roll away from you."

Nora froze.

The voice was familiar. Deeper and older than she remembered, but it only took a moment before she connected the dots.

She stood quickly and turned around even faster than that. Then she saw him.

Caleb.

For a moment, she thought her mind was playing tricks. But there he was, holding a cup of cider, wearing that same half-smile she’d remembered too many autumns in a row.

“I—what?” was all she managed.

He chuckled, stepping closer. “Took me a few years, but I guess I made it back to the patch.”

Nora laughed then, the sound bubbling out before she could stop it. “Guess so.”

They walked the rows together again, just like before. The pumpkins glowed under the strings of lights, the ground soft beneath their shoes. Caleb told her about how he’d enrolled in the schools’ design program and was working towards his degree in graphic design. Nora, in turn, told him about the classes she was taking to become a grade school psychologist.

All night, it seemed, they went back and forth trading stories and reconnecting. And it was odd. Though Nora had only talked to him once before in her life, nearly four years ago, it was as if they had been lifelong friends. Everything just felt so easy with him. And she loved that.

“I always thought I’d see you again,” Caleb admitted quietly, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets. “Just didn’t know when.”

She smiled. “I thought I made you up.”

They both laughed at that, but there was something in the silence afterward. Although it was something neither wanted to name just yet.

…

After that night, they started meeting for coffee, for study sessions, for walks when the leaves fell in golden drifts across campus. Everything between them came easily, like a song they both already knew the melody to.

One night, they sat outside the library talking over cups of apple cider, watching students hurry past under the string lights. The smell of woodsmoke hung faintly in the air.

“I still can’t believe we found each other again,” Nora said softly.

Caleb looked at her, eyes warm. “Maybe we were just meant to pick the same patch twice.”

She smiled, cheeks burning in the cold. “You always did have a way with words.”

“Only when I mean them.”

It was the kind of quiet moment that didn’t need a kiss to feel like one.

…

By November, they were officially together. Winter came, finals passed, spring bloomed, and then (almost without realizing it)another fall rolled around.

…

On a chilly October evening, exactly one year later, Caleb surprised her with a drive. He didn’t say where they were going until she saw the lights ahead: the same festival, the same makeshift pumpkin patch glowing against the dark.

They wandered through, side by side. The air smelled of cinnamon and cider, and laughter rose from nearby bonfires.

“This feels familiar,” she said, grinning as she brushed her fingers over the smooth curve of a pumpkin.

“History repeats itself,” he said. “At least the good parts.”

She picked up a small one and held it out to him. “So you don’t lose it this time.”

He grinned, taking it gently from her hands. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They sat on a hay bale near the edge of the field, watching lanterns flicker in the distance. Her head rested on his shoulder, her hand tracing lazy circles on his sleeve.

It struck her then how full-circle everything felt. How the world could be so impossibly big, and yet somehow bring two people back to the same place at the right time.

For years, autumn had meant endings: leaves falling, light fading, time slipping away. But now, as the night hummed softly around them, Nora realized it could mean something else, too.

Autumn could mean finding what you thought you’d lost forever.

──★ ˙ pumpkin daily
420 words … november 5

Matching this session's theme, fall, this daily will be all about pumpkins! Maybe it's an essay on why their good for you or writing a story from the perspective of a pumpkin, anything to do with a pumpkin counts! Make sure to write 250 words to gain 250 points, and add an extra 100 if you share. Good luck!

I wake up, the sunlight hitting my face. Still groggy, I rub my eyes, but also notice something different. There was a new smell hanging in the air. Then I remembered, today was October 1.

My small village loved fall, and so did my family. Every single year, on the first day of October, we would set up a little stand to sell some goodies. This tradition has been traced since this town was founded.

I run downstairs, my hair messy, excited to help my parents. We sold treats, which included apple cider, caramelized apples, and maple cookies. My personal favorite was the pumpkin pie. But not just because it tasted delicious, but also because I loved helping my mom in the kitchen. It filled the air with a wonderful smell that told us it was fall.

Mom told me to do my morning routine before I could help. This slightly annoyed me, but she knew that once I started I wouldn't have any time left to brush my teeth and wash my face.

Finally, after putting on a cozy sweater and jeans, I arrive at the kitchen. She immediately tells me what step she was on. I already have the full recipe memorized from the previous years, and get to work.

I was working on the filling when my brother comes down. He decided to go out and set up the stand. I was secretly happy, as I wanted to keep the enjoyment of baking the pie to myself. Besides, this is when I can spill the tea to my mom.

Soon, we finish baking. Putting on my oven mitts, I open the oven and take it out. The scent is even better than the recipes. However, I can't eat it, at least not this one. This one goes to the stand, and we will make the one we can eat later. Mom puts the pie in a basket, along with other things that I need to put at the stand.

Carrying out the basket, I wave goodbye. I hop onto my bicycle, and start pedaling. The wind felt great against my face, and the temperature was nice today. I greet some of our neighbors as I ride. The stand is not too far, and located at the city center. Already, I can see a line being formed, and my brother seems like he needs help.

The stand is covered with decorations and mini pumpkins. I smile, excited to help out. Today was going to be a great day.

starrii's weekly 1- forms of writing
Poetry:

Waking up,
I stretch
I yawn
I stretch some more.
Then, I check
The calendar.
And realise the date,
The 11th. Of course! Great! Eureka!
It’s the day of the one and only Cabin Wars.
Well, technically there are two days, you know,
But, hey, the first is always the best, isn’t it?
(Though the second one was super fun, hosties)
The rush of adrenaline as I hopped onto my laptop to check the main cabin
Just in case, of course, you know,
And saw the daily ‘CABIN WARS!’
Clicking away to the Bi-fi Cabin,
Where the iconic Rose from Apocalypicnic had blessed us with a war.

Songwriting:

*insert suspenseful music on the piano*
*insert loud strums on the guitar*

The wackiest idea just presented itself to me,
The Cat in the Hat but- the fish is narrating the hilarious story,
How chaotic can it get? Much more. Way more.
For instance, the fish jumped out of the bowl and didn’t die.
More? More chaos? I guess it can’t get *any* worse, can it?
It can,
If Bi-fi loses the most recent Apocalypicnic war.
I hope we don’t!

It’s midnight in India,
7 pm for the BST SWCers,
10:30 am for the PSTers,
And God knows which time zone in other places.
This whole thing should have a huge /time zones can be weird tone tag.

Frantic messages for any other camper from my cabin,
Blasting out words from my keyboard like a maniac,
Anticipating, staring at and stalking every cabin’s shield,
Shimmying away the miniature remainder of my sleep schedule.
This is the true essence of cabin wars,
This is what it sounds is like!

It’s midnight in India,
7 pm for the BST SWCers,
10:30 am for the PSTers,
And God knows which time zone in other places.
This whole thing should have a huge /time zones can be weird tone tag.


Scriptwriting:

SETTING: THE UPSIDE- DOWN INN, THE FESTIVAL OF FAE.
The sparkling, glittering bunks are crowded with festivalgoers. Each one has a device on which they are typing furiously. They look at each other anxiously, and continue their writing spree. One of them, Starrii, pulls out their English essay due the next day and starts working on it.
They groan, cursing as their battle-worn pen runs out of ink and casually rolls under another bunk.
Starrii
Why now? For what great joy? That essay is due tomorrow anyway, and I need. More. Words. Words are of paramount importance.

The girl sleeping on the next bunk bed wakes with a start. She stares at the time in despair, then discovers Starrii’s pen under her bed.
Chocolate
Here, Starrii, finish your essay. And maybe begin a new writing project? I’ll start one too! We still have four thousand words left for Apocalyptic’s war and we need those words! By the way, how long was I even sleeping? Can you tell me that?

Before Starrii can answer, two more girls run arm in arm through the open door of the inn, their abundant hair ruffled by the magical wind outside. The first’s movement is slightly restricted as she has a brown cat curled around her shoulders. The other has blonde hair, and her peculiar glasses look quite like Spectrospecs. The latter stops at Chocolate’s bunk and shakes her head.

Lune
Chocolate, if I should be honest, your sleep schedule is pretty non-existent. I should really tell Cat about your sleep-related shenanigans… but first, let me invent a hundred more imaginary cats to name. We need more words. Trust the process.

Eva nods in agreement, and turns her attention to Lune’s cats and their naming rituals.

Eva
We’re at Shoe Box, Chai, Buttercup…. Guys, how many more words are needed? Rose does send brutal wars.

Starrii
So.. I kind of wrote a three page essay in tiny handwriting- in other words, we’ve won Apocalyptic’s war! Can anyone do the honours of notifying Rose of her defeat?

The other girls look at their devices, checking the Bi-Fi cabin. Their faces turn to one of bewilderment. Another person runs in.

CLEV
Hey y’all, I am a mercenary, so I missed this war- but I have news! Our shield has been down for the past hour, and we just received a four thousand five hundred word war.

Everyone stares, then breaks into hysterical laughter. I wonder if cabin wars aren’t concerning….

Speech:

Okay. Lights, camera, action. *insert ultra inspirational music casually playing in the background which is definitely not Viva la Vida* It’s night. Nah, it’s technically morning. It’s 2AM. You’re an insomniac like me. You can’t sleep, also like me. Your blanket is itchy. It’s hot. You’re bored. There’s nothing to do, unless….
Unless you open your device and write, gallantly. Until the end. That is, bedtime. But in this scenario, your bedtime has passed. You have not a single thing to lose. (Unless you’re sensitive and you might lose your sanity? I don’t think cabin wars are that rough, huh? It might be for first-timers, I don’t know) Anyone, by now, will guess that I mean, long story short, CABIN WARS! Cabin warsies to me.
So. Let’s get straight down to business. What are cabin wars? Cabin wars are iconic versions of WWIII, but online and in SWC, and twice each session, in the weekend. The weapons are, of course, peaceful, if not non-chaotic. We fight the other cabins (normally, our enemies, but I wouldn’t dare to say Scratch Writing camp is the tiniest bit normal, so see for yourselves, new recruits) with words :sparkles: :zany: :cartwheels: :eyes: :more eyes: /sorry I’m just rambling because I’m bored and chaotic
SO! I’ll give you some tips on how to write during cabin wars! *brings a ten page scroll because I’m cool*

SUPER, FIRE, BURNING HOT TIPS FOR WRITING A STRONG STORY (AND SURVIVING CABIN WARS BECAUSE NEW RECRUITS REALLY, REALLY, REALLY NEED IT. TRUST ME.):
- Think about the most unique/compelling aspect of your story. Begin there. It’s a good idea… in theory. When you actually know something about your story. Not me. Never! I’m spontaneous. I cause combustion. Proof: Oxygen supports spontaneous combustion. I need oxygen! So do you! For that, let’s go to the next point
- TAKE BREAKS. SLEEP. LIFE > SWC. Follow it and you’ll benefit. For real. I’m not kidding. Woah.
- Paint an image through visual description! Description gives words! Words are life!
- Introduce an important character/plot moment. Start with super high-tension action, to quote the very cool Skylar. (stalk Action! Stan Gothic!)
- Open with dialogue. Trust me. Or don’t. Starting with dialogue is hard anyways.
- Be super chaotic. The more chaotic, the better. NOT THE REVERSE. DEAR GOD, NO. You’ll be able to ramble a lot! Rambling rocks! Like Scratch Writing Camp!

So, have I convinced you to be a cabin war hero? Of course I have!

pumpkin daily


I am a pumpkin. At least, that’s what you humans call me. In reality though, I am a member of the delicious species of fruit called Cucurbita pepo. This is something I’ve heard from unidentified sources, or in other words, my young bookworm owner Starrii, who possesses and cherishes an unhealthy obsession towards pumpkins.

Today was the day I came to life. Well, technically I was always alive, but today was my day of enlightenment and awakening. That is, the day I managed to possess animation (or became animate). I successfully have qualified to be a specimen of biology now- or wasn’t I already one before? Yeah, I was. But now, Starrii can interrogate me about the life of a pumpkin. It’ll be better than pumpkin pie, I’m VERY SURE.

That means my owner had the chance to hand me over to the Pumpkin Police. And didn’t.

I can safely conclude only one thing. Namely, they (Starrii) are planning to eat me. Or cut me open. Or even worse, put me in the blender along with a doomed red, seeded strawberry counterpart and extract all my body juices out of me. However, the absolute Top of The Pops of painful deaths would be drying. Dried pumpkin? The abomination? It would be indeed tasty, but NOT WHEN YOU’RE AN INNOCENT FAULTLESS PUMPKIN.

Unfortunately, SWCers are plotting disturbing things behind our (and the Pumpkin Police’s) backs. If my newly formed eyes do not deceive me, I can see that they are planning a Great Pumpkin Heist. (I see schemes! Huh… like the fork box :many eyes

Pumpkins, my fellow kin, my family and friends, this call is for you. We should rebel against our enemies and owners! Worse luck, it’s Halloween season. Which is basically jack o’ lantern season. Which means it’s carving aka butchering season. Stay safe, my folks.

Daily #6 (375 words excluding the precursor)
PRECURSOR: So I kinda had this really random (and kinda dumb) idea of pumpkins having a debate over whether they should surrender to humans to be carved for Halloween. So yeah, that’s what I wrote *laughs*.

MAIN JUDGE PUMPKIN sits at the center of a long table with other PUMPKIN JUDGES. BUMPY PUMPKIN and ROUGH PUMPKIN are actively arguing over where pumpkins should stand on Halloween.

ROUGH PUMPKIN
(encouragingly)
Pumpkins! We must consider what would happen to the poor humans if we were to disappear this time of year! We bring them so much joy! You cannot possibly imagine taking that from them.

TINY JUDGE PUMPKIN
(thoughtfully)
I see where you are coming from, but is there joy a worthy reward when we lose so many of our kin?

ROUGH PUMPKIN
(assuringly)
Even when we lose kin, we almost immediately gain more! It hardly shakes us!

BUMPY PUMPKIN looks back and forth between ROUGH PUMPKIN and the JUDGE PUMPKINS, awaiting a chance to interject.

BUMPY PUMPKIN
(interjecting)
Rough Pumpkin I believe that the judges bring up an excellent point. Why must we satisfy the humans when we lose hundreds if not thousands of our kin every October?

ROUGH PUMPKIN
(annoyed)
I understand your concern, but this has been a tradition of humans! We can’t possibly just vanish. And if we vanish, then another will be in our position, have our conversation, and so the cycle will go. It is better for everyone if we are the ones who bring such joy to the humans.


BUMPY PUMPKIN meets the gaze of all the JUDGE PUMPKINS.

BUMPY PUMPKIN
(proudly)
Judge Pumpkins! Please consider this - if we continue to surrender to the humans, is that not us admitting final defeat to the humans? Is that not us giving up any last chance we have? Is that not us giving them more fuel for the fire? They will start to ruin this world if nothing is done. Us continuing to provide for them every Halloween is just one more party that admits to their superiority. Please do not let this come to pass.

JUDGE PUMPKINS all look at each other and talk amongst themselves. ROUGH PUMPKIN and BUMPY PUMPKIN wait nervously.

MAIN JUDGE PUMPKIN stands up with the final decision.

MAIN JUDGE PUMPKIN
(loudly)
Bumpy Pumpkin, you have swayed us. The Pumpkins will remove themselves from human holidays. We will also help protect any other parties that end up in the grasp of human traditions.

Daily 6

Matching this session's theme, fall, this daily will be all about pumpkins! Maybe it's an essay on why their good for you or writing a story from the perspective of a pumpkin, anything to do with a pumpkin counts! Make sure to write 250 words to gain 250 points, and add an extra 100 if you share. Good luck!

Jaime the pumpkin was a pumpkin. She was a white pumpkin, because those exist too, and they are very cool (and make good ghosts, if you carve them into jack o’ lanterns). Jaime was hanging out with her friends, Harold (who was a butternut squash) and Lulu (who was a type of gourd). They decided that they were bored of sitting around on someone’s front steps, so they decided they would go on an adventure! So they rolled off the front steps and rolled down the side walk, dodging humans who either screamed as them, or tried to pick them up (how rude!). They rolled into a car, which drove to an air port. The driver seemed confused as to why there were several squash in his trunk, and then was strangely alarmed by them rolling out on their own. They rolled over to wait in line, to the strange confusion of several people standing in line next to them. Once it was their turn, they took off their shoes and had the people inspect their luggage. Then they boarded the plane! “Oh wow, this is so much fun! I’ve never been on a plane before!” Lulu squealed gleefully, buckling her seat belt. “I know, right?” Harold said, with just as much glee. “I wonder where we’re going…” Jaime wondered aloud. “The plane will be taking off soon, please be sure to buckle yourself” The airplane voice said. “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” Harold and Lulu squealed. After a few a minutes, the engines rumbled, and they took off into the sky. They would finally, have an adventure.
To be continued… (maybe)

268 words

Pumpkin Daily - 6th November
517 words

The Perfect Pumpkin

Alice bounced towards the pumpkin patch, her wavy auburn hair flying out behind her as anticipation and excitement pulsed through her.
“Slow down, Alice! Her mother called from behind her, fixing her with a stern glare. “We can’t go losing our precious toddler in a pumpkin patch now, can we?”
Alice rolled her eyes in exasperation and crossed her arms over her chest, letting out a huff of irritation as she paused to let her mother catch up. She was jumping up and down with impatience by the time her mother reached her, desperate to get going.
“Please, Mum, can we go now?” She pleaded.
Her mother nodded. “Yes, off you go,” She told her daughter calmly.

Alice squealed with excitement and raced up to the pumpkin patch. She gazed in wonder at the sight before her. There could be hundreds, even thousands of pumpkins in the field below her, ranging from a cheerful amber to a lime green to a pearly white. The trees towering over them were fiery red and orange, their leaves twirling through the air, dancing on the bitter breeze, cushioning the pumpkins on a vibrant carpet.

Determination rushed through her. She had to find the perfect pumpkin. She glanced behind at her mother, who nodded at her to carry on. Alice scampered down the muddy slope towards the pumpkin patch, smears of brown coating her once pristine shoes. She grasped the handle of her wicker basket firmly, a red chequered cloth resting in its base, ready to hold the best pumpkin.
Her eyes roamed around the field, searching. She saw a group of brightly coloured pumpkins to her right, ranging in size, and headed in that direction. She hauled pumpkin after pumpkin into her arms, checking for any holes, any scratches, any imperfections. Was it too large that it wouldn’t fit in her basket, too wide, too narrow? Her gaze landed on a tiny pumpkin directly in front of her, its orange surface completely unscarred, a gnarled sage stalk piking up from the middle. Unlike the other pumpkins, not a single streak of mud adorned it, as it sat flawlessly in a little patch of luscious emerald grass.

Alice grinned, her smile glowing on her face as she cradled the pumpkin in her short chubby arms. She placed it gently in her basket, and embraced it the whole way back to her mother, her hazel eyes sparkling with elation.
“Mum!” She cried in joy. “I found the perfect pumpkin!”
Her mother looked down at the pumpkin, and an amused smile spread across her face.
“It’s beautiful, Alice. Very… small though, isn’t it?” She queried.
Alice shook her head. “Yeah, I’m small as well! So it’s the perfect size as I’ll be able to carve it easily! Obviously, Mum!” She chided.

A few hours later, Alice proudly placed her newly carved pumpkin outside her house. Two triangular eyes were accompanied by a tiny circle for the mouth and a line for the nose. She stepped back to admire her work and nodded proudly.
“The perfect pumpkin!”

“Ally!” Renée groaned-yelled, rushing over to where her daughter was eyeing the pumpkin on the table. There were some carving tools left out on the table, safely out of Ally’s reach. Or so she thought, as Ally was clearly trying to reach for them. She pulled her three-year-old daughter away from the edge of the dining table and sat her down. “Ally, we do not touch the carving tools,” Renée said, being firm with her daughter. “You could hurt yourself and that would be very bad.” Renée grimaced as she thought of everything that could go wrong with a three-year-old toddler touching sharp(ish) pumpkin carving tools. She had seen way too many accidents in her job that she just had to make sure Ally understood the consequences. A trip to the hospital or urgent care centre was much better avoided right now.

Ally gave Renée a look of disappointment. “But I want to do pumpkin!” Ally declared, clearly upset at having been pulled away from the exciting prospect of carving a pumpkin for Halloween.

“You’ll get to do the pumpkin,” Renée said, “later. Mama’s going to use the sharp objects to carve it because you could hurt yourself.” And we all know what hurt kids look like, she added silently.

“Awww.” Ally looked disappointed, but she seemed to understand. “We can do it now!”

Renée sighed. “Yes, we can do it now. You just have to be a bit patient, Ally, because I was getting the bowl ready for when we dig out all the seeds.” Renée turned back to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl. She set it down on the table and brought Ally to sit at the table. “Alright. Let’s do some carving.”

Daily November 6th
Warning: This story is mildly creepy, and involves summoning a demon and stuff, so if you’re sensitive to creepiness you may not want to read it! It's not that bad though so you'll probably be fine

“This is weird. Why are we even doing this?” Oliver hissed. This was huddling in the middle of a possibly haunted field trying to summon a scarecrow demon. “Because it’s awesome? Now be quiet.” his friend, Jordan, hissed at him. Jordan was busy dragging pumpkins into a mildly terrifying summoning circle. “And also help because these pumpkins are SUPER HEAVY by the way.” Oliver sighed. It wasn’t that he hadn’t agreed to this plan. He had. But he was just very much regretting that agreement. Much to his disappointment, he couldn’t back out now. Saying “Oh hey yeah I know I agreed to do this terrifying fall pumpkin scarecrow demon summoning thing with you, but ummm never mind! I’m backing out! Bye, enjoy summoning a demon, don’t die, see you tomorrow hopefully” was not exactly top-notch friend material. So, with a resigned sigh, Oliver started carrying and pushing the pumpkins into the circle. In a few minutes, Jordan stepped back and examined them. “Well, that’s a good demonic pumpkin summoning circle if I ever saw one!” “You didn’t. I really hope.” Oliver pointed out. Jordan shrugged “I haven’t. But still. It looks good and creepy is the point! Now then…light the pumpkins?” All of the pumpkins were per-carved ones they had stolen off of a big wagon full of them at the orchard’s parking lot, loaded into a smaller wagon, and then wheeled out into this field at 1am in the morning. They had also brought a bunch of candles and matches to actually light the pumpkins. Now, the two of them each grabbed a match box and walked in a circle, sticking candles in each pumpkin and lighting them as they want. As they two of them walked around the circle, they met. Jordan lit the last pumpkin, and with Oliver’s hands clammy and his knees slightly shaking, they sat down in the middle of the ring opposite each other.

(there should be more here to actually continue this story but I didn’t know how to do it so that’s it. This was very high quality, clearly)
321 words

word war: prompted, 2 mins 201 words

How long have you been watching me? I scream at the top of my lungs. The camera behind the bedframe was only one, there could be many more. I start to search frantically, behind mirrors, inside closets, in the cracks of doors. I'm paranoid. I'll have to move - but they'll be watching me as I do, figuring out my new address - oh god, there's got to be some in my car, it must be filled! How many times did I think I was alone, in private, while I was being spied on from above, or below, or any thing inbetween? I don't know, I don't know, but I do know that I have to get out of here. I have to run as fast as possible as far away as I can, even if just to feel free. I throw off my headphones and toss my phone under the blankets, run out my front door and just start sprinting - somewhere, anywhere, away from the eyes, the cameras, the constant feeling of being watched. But I know I'll never be able to fully escape. I will never feel so free again, I fear. It's just like they say, ignorance really is bliss.

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Daily #6: Pumpkins || 257/250 words
Matching this session's theme, fall, this daily will be all about pumpkins! Maybe it's an essay on why their good for you or a story from the perspective of a pumpkin, anything to do with a pumpkin counts! Make sure to write 250 words to gain 250 points, and add an extra 100 if you share. Good luck!

It was dark. I looked at the clock: 23:53. It was almost midnight. I read the letter again - I had read it so many times I had already memorized it, but I had nothing else to do.
I have to tell you something. Tonight, at midnight, I'll be waiting for you to arrive at the pumpkin avenue. Happy Halloween
~ K
There wasn't any Pumpkin Avenue where I lived, but I assumed it was the one that was decorated with dozens of pumpkins and spooky Halloween decor. I stood there, near the colorful Halloween lights.
23:59. Suddenly, something moved. Kayla was wearing a dark hoodie and I couldn't see her face, but I knew it was her. But something seemed wrong.
“Kayla, what's happening? You've been acting weird” I said.
The lights around us flickered. She moved, and I saw her eyes. Then, everything went dark. I felt her hand on my shoulder, and she quietly guided me somewhere.
“I saw a ghost.” she whispered. “This morning. It was your ghost. It has been following me”
“Really? A ghost? Are you kidding?” I couldn't believe it. Was that a Halloween prank?
“I'm sorry”
She sounded worried, terrified. Her voice reminded me that she was my best friend. She wouldn't lie to me about that. She wouldn't prank me about that.
“I've seen ghosts every Halloween. I didn't know any of the people that appeared. But this time I do”
Then, the lights went back. Kayla had vanished.
According to my watch, it was still exactly midnight.

i am a pumpkin lol that's a coincidence, isn't it

Daily - 6/10/25
“Pumpkins Deserve More Respect"
Let’s be honest—pumpkins have been done dirty by society. For one month out of the year, they’re celebrities. Everyone wants them on their porches, in their lattes, and on their Instagram feeds. Then, come November, we toss them aside like last season’s decorations. It’s tragic, really.
First off, pumpkins are nutritional powerhouses. They’re packed with vitamin A, fiber, and antioxidants. If you eat them instead of just posing with them, they actually help you see better, boost your immune system, and keep your heart healthy. But do people appreciate that? Nope. They just carve goofy faces into them, stick a candle inside, and watch them rot. The disrespect!
And don’t even get me started on pumpkin spice. The poor pumpkin doesn’t even get credit for that trend—it’s literally the spices people like, not the pumpkin! Meanwhile, real pumpkin puree sits quietly in the grocery store, ignored by the masses until Thanksgiving pies roll around.
Pumpkins are the underdogs of fall. They work hard all summer growing big and bright, only to be turned into décor, dessert, or a punchline in a latte joke. Maybe this year, we should give them a little more love—roast the seeds, make some soup, or even plant a few for next season. After all, pumpkins are more than just a seasonal aesthetic. They’re orange miracles of the garden world—and they deserve to be appreciated all year long.

November 6 daily – Pumpkins

I have been sitting at the bottom of this box for… how long? Days? Weeks? Months? No, probably not months. It just feels like forever when there are several other heavy pumpkins sitting on top of you. I miss the pumpkin patch, where I was so comfortable attached to my vine, before I was so rudely torn from it and thrown in a trunk with a bunch of other gourds.
No one is entirely clear on what’s happening. I’ve heard it has something to do with an occasion called Hallowe’en. People want us for that. There’s been a lot of speculation about it. We don’t have much else to do here.
“They put us in front of their houses. Because we’re so handsome.”
“I thought it was something about fall. Like, a harvest festival.”
“I heard they cut us open and pull out our guts!”
“I heard they throw us off their roofs and watch us go splat.”
“No, no, once they cut you open they put a candle in you.”
“Maybe they set you on fire.”
“I bet they’re gonna use us for cooking. Maybe we’ll get turned into pie.”
“No, no, that’s the pie pumpkins.”
“Can’t you read? The sign says jack-o’lantern pumpkins.”
Another topic of conversation is who’s going to get taken away next, and by what people. We spend a lot of time judging every human who looks at us — how good would they be? I wish I had a better view of the people. The other pumpkins are in my way. At least a few have been taken off me by now, so I can see something. Although I do miss them. Who knows what’s happening to them now? Probably something terrible. Something even worse than sitting here. But probably more interesting. I guess I’ll find out eventually, when my time comes.

205 words

Elisa’s eyelids fluttered open, revealing the hazel irises underneath. They squinted at the clear white light hanging on the ceiling, and once again, Elisa didn’t know where she was anymore. The feeling of clean, spotlessly white sheets around her as well as the usual soft humming of the machines told reminded her that she was still laying helplessly on a hospital bed wiht nothing to accompany her but a bouquet of flowers somebody had put there and a teddy bear that her mother probably brought to her. Not that she needed a teddy bear. She had been sleeping without it for ten years already, and the teddy bear was very worn and smelled kinda salty - just like tears.

After readjusting to the light in the room, Elisa spotted a person seated on a stool next to her, cinnamon eyes watching her keenly. They looked away when she met their gaze. “How long have you been watching me?” she asked, the words flowing out of her mouth before she could control them. She had not been having too much control over her words these past few days. Her voice was also very raspy, not unlike that of an old man with only half of his teeth

06.11.25 ★ Pumpkin Daily
279/250 words

Pumpkin was rolling home one day when he stopped, and squinted his roughly carved eyes to look at a figure moving along the street. Wait. Could it be?

“GREEN PUMPKIN?” Pumpkin shrieked.

“GREEN PUMPKINS EXIST?” Pumpkin gasped in joy. “ELPHABA?” He shouted, once more.

Finally, the Green Pumpkin turned to look at Pumpkin. Looking left and right, she rolled across the road carefully, and joined Pumpkin, before shrieking as well.

“ORANGE WATERMELON?”
“ORANGE WATERMELONS EXIST?”

Wait, what?

Pumpkin looked at Watermelon.

“You’re… not a pumpkin?”
“And you’re not a watermelon?”

Cue the awkward silence. Both fruits looked uncertainly one way and the other, before they both stopped short.
“Hang on..” started Watermelon.
“Something’s wrong,” added Pumpkin.

And something certainly was wrong. On Watermelon’s previous side of the road, the sun was shining down on cracks in the chalk-decorated pavement, and there was a kid skipping along the path, holding an ice-cream.

On Pumpkin’s side of the road, orange brown leaves were falling from trees that dotted the sidewalk, and people walked along briskly, hands in pockets, scarves wrapped around their necks, all big jackets and warmer clothes.

So…

“Autumn Watermelons are called Pumpkins?”
“And Summer Pumpkins are called Watermelons?”

Watermelon scratched her head nervously. “Spring has Easter Eggs instead of Watermelons… so who’s the winter Watermelon Pumpkin?”

They stared at the sky hesitantly.

A big red and white ball dropped from the clouds, and as he stood up and smoothed out his white beard, the fruit screamed.

“A PERSON!?!?!!?!?”

“Ho ho ho! I am the Christmas Pumpkin Watermelon Man!”

Watermelon awkwardly rolled away, and Pumpkin sank back into the ground. This seasonal clash was too much for one afternoon.

daily 6 - pumpkin yap

Okay so I'm really tired and really low motivated right now and also I might be sick. Frowns. So this daily is just going to be a complete and utter YAPFEST about pumpkins. Yeah, you know what? Who needs motivation mangoes anyways? Why not motivation PUMPKINS! Anyways, pumpkins are really pretty a lot of the time. At least the smaller ones. Something about their texture combined with their shape combined with their color is really appealing to me. I mean, the basic orange ones are really pretty for sure. But then there's the ones with different colors. Like I've seen white ones, I've seen orange ones with green stripes. I've even seen white ones with orange and green stripes, and I think those are really pretty looking. I love those. I love pumpkins in general. I really like going to farmers markets in the fall to look at those pumpkins. Especially the little ones. They often look so cool and pretty and I love them. And I love looking at all the ranges of colors and sizes and patterns they can have. Pumpkin pie is also really good. I don't like to have a lot at a time, though. The other day I went to a Halloween party (my mom made me and my sister go to the party our youth group was having and wouldn't let us go trick or treating sighs but oh well) and they had a pie-eating contest. I signed up partially for the prize and partially just so I could eat pie. But it meant I had to shovel the piece in my mouth as fast as I could because it was a race to see who could finish the slice first, and I didn't do too badly, but I kind of felt like I was maybe going to throw up afterwards. Besides that, I do enjoy pumpkin pie. Especially with ice cream or whipped cream. Ooh, or both. There's also pumpkin ice cream, I think we get it from Trader Joe's? And that's really good too. Except the carton suggests having it with pumpkin pie and there's no way I'm doing that, I think that's definitely way too much pumpkin at one time.

369 words