General

As pumpkin carving went to new social-media spun heights, we competed to make the most basic1970s Jack-O-Lanterns money never bought.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, September 13, 2020.
General

Upon the concrete steps, in the streetlamp golden-glow, sit three carved inmates upon a halloween death-row.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, September 13, 2020.
General

We lay the tools upon the bench, Sarah, May and I, and take a good look at these new field-grown friends. Their skin is the most joyous orange-cream, their stems a sea-spun sage, all mottled and infused with shades I don't even think have names. They sit and stare back at us, their skin hues as unique as any fingerprint, all awaiting us to give them a personality, so to speak. I take the permanent marker and draw a puking face, with cartoon eyes that squint and mouth a jagged-tooth grin. Then it's time to open up their heads, to pull the sinewy seeds right out and clean up their golden skulls. When we are done the carving we set them down upon the front steps to welcome all who pass, placing candles in each one to light once the stars come out. The puke thus rests from mouth to stairs, a family of pumpkin ghouls, each as fabulous as each other, each part of our picture perfect halloween.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, September 13, 2020.
General

My mother used to carve our pumpkin with a fruit knife and a dessert spoon. She'd cut off the head top as if it were orange-Frankenstein, her "surgical line" the most halloween of hack-jobs. And then we'd watch as she scooped out its "brains" and listen to the sound of the seedy sinew drop into her metal bowl. I recall the smell, so earthy and raw; it's an aroma that still transports me back to those most innocent of days. Mr Pumpkin's eyes were always squares of random size, his nose a rugged triangle and his mouth a jagged gape. Yet despite this lack of art, despite putting our pumpkin-carving-amateur-hour on neighbourhood display, we had the best of times, we made memories that keep us warm.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, September 13, 2020.
General

I always thought the pumpkins we carved were sorta cartoon versions of us, images that said the things we can't say to one another.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, September 13, 2020.