you are here
Whose Garden Grows at Midnight
mysteryEveryone6 contributors · 4 paragraphs deep
I measure it out with my steps. Thirty-seven paces. Too far. It didn't roll. Someone carried it. Someone strong carried Mr. Okafor's prize pumpkin across the entire allotment in the dark.
'Kids,' Mrs. Chen says from across the plot. 'Has to be. Some neighborhood dare.' But she's frowning. She doesn't believe it. I don't believe it either. This doesn't feel like a dare.
↔ version 2 of 2 of this paragraph — hover its sides to flip. The card below is what happens next.
What happens next?
0 ways forwardVote share across the top 0 branches
No futures yet — be the one who decides what happens next.