Gallery of Dreams (standard:drama, 1077 words)
Author: MJ Dayton	Added: Sep 20 2009	Views/Reads: 3267/1905	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Entry for 24 hour short story contest, fall 2009

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

meeting any of her neighbors; the houses were not that close and she 
had yet to finish unpacking. 

“I saw you up on the hill under the Maple the other day.  You seemed to
be looking in my direction but when I waved, you just turned around and 
walked away.  I decided that you must not be the neighborly type.” 

“Oh, I'm just near-sighted, that's all.  I didn't see you.” 

“You were carrying a bundle, it sounded like you had a crying baby in
there,” he ventured, wondering if it had been her child he had heard. 

“I remember that day.  That was no baby; that was my beagle.  He was
howling over his injuries and I was carting him around to get him some 
fresh air.” 

“That was one odd-sounding dog.” 

“That's not the least of it!” she exclaimed. 

When they were just kids, he had known she had a crush on him but he had
been too young to have interest in that sort of thing.  Now her flaxen 
hair begged to be touched and something stirred in the pit of his 
stomach as she locked her eyes onto his.  He wasn't sure if the feeling 
originated from the corn dogs and elephant ears or if it was something 
altogether different. 

Over the next few weeks, they saw each other frequently, picking up
where they had left off as children.  They talked of old times, old 
friends, hopes and heartaches.  They talked about many things but not 
why he had been relieved to be disqualified from the pumpkin contest.  
It was something he just couldn't share. 

November's clutch was almost upon them.  Ghosts, goblins and witches
were out tonight in the heart of town, but down CR-37, where houses 
were too sparsely spaced, no children came looking for tricks or 
treats.  The only sounds they heard were the sounds of the wind 
whipping through skeletal trees and stirring up dried leaves that 
rattled like graveyard bones.  She laid her head on his shoulder and 
his warmth helped combat the chill that had settled over her as they 
sat on a blanket in his pumpkin patch, veiled by the blackness of All 
Hallow's Eve. 

“Tonight, this is why I was nervous about entering one of my pumpkins
into the contest at the fair.  I thought it might reflect badly on my 
sincerety to the pumpkin patch, and you know what that could mean.  
Hypocrisy isn't tolerated.” 

“You should have told me, I would have understood,” she countered. 

"There are three things I have learned never to discuss with people:
religion, politics, and the Great Pumpkin." 

“Linus, you should have known you could open up to me.” 

“Yeah, you're right.  You were the only one who ever believed.  I sure
have missed you Sally Brown.” 

They glanced skyward at a disturbance just in time to see the WW1 flying
ace come crashing down.  Good grief! 


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