Scaredy Cat

The fact Miscreant Manor sits behind a large, festive pumpkin patch with happy scarecrows holding signs with information on where to buy apple cider feels…

wrong. It’s a very autumn-themed property, with orchards and a corn maze, though I only glance warily at the swaying, brown stalks I can barely see under the moon.

My headlights illuminate a tractor hooked up to a wagon stacked with bales. Also on the wagon is Gloria, sitting perched on the rail. She’s not looking at me, however. She’s staring up at the moon, which washes out her features as she kicks one leg back against the trailer under her.

This is a mistake. Every part of me is rebelling against this, telling me I shouldn’t be here.