Flash Fiction: All Hallows Magic

Welcome to the Spot Writers. This month’s prompt is to use these five words in a tale: wax, teeth, stain, spirit, quiet. This week’s tale comes to us from Val Muller, author of the Corgi Capers kidlit mystery series.

All Hallows Magic

By Val Muller

“Wax candies,” Grandma was saying. “They were wax and filled with juice. You bit into them and then drank the juice.”

Rick and Ashley eyed each other. That sounded disgusting, and they wondered if Grandma really had such candies. Sometimes, the world she described seemed too strange to be real.

“Now my favorite Halloween memory was when I actually scared my mom. I mean really, truly scared her.” Grandma’s eyes turned hazy and far away, like she was seeing back in time. She shifted the large bowl of candy on her lap, and then she peeked out the window.

“No one’s coming, Grandma.” Rick shrugged. “No one trick or treats anymore.” His phone dinged, and he checked it, typing.

Grandma seemed not to have heard—like Rick’s words passed right through her. Like she was a ghost.

“The Halloween I scared my mom,” she continued, “I saved all my babysitting money for these vampire teeth, stage quality. Not those cheap plastic ones. These looked like real teeth, and you stuck them onto your incisors with adhesive. You could even eat with them on. I put them on, came downstairs in my street clothes, smiled at mom, and her face went white.”

Ashley looked up from her phone.

“I looked just like a vampire.” Grandma chuckled. “That was the true spirit of Halloween. A little bit of fright, a little discomfort. Reminds us we’re alive. That’s the whole point.”

Rick sighed and turned on his Xbox. “No one’s coming, Grandma,” he repeated. “There aren’t any trick or treaters anymore.” He picked up the controller and started his game.

Aside from the drone of Xbox racing, the room grew quiet. The light from Grandma’s half dozen jack-o-lanterns on the front porch danced against the front windows, making them look like stained glass.

There was a lull in Rick’s game. Footsteps echoed on the front porch. Ashley exchanged a look with Grandma, who smiled. Ashely put down her phone.

The doorbell rang.

The Spot Writers—Our Members:

Val Muller: http://valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com

Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.ca/

 

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