Flash Fiction: β€œThe Halloween Grouch”

I wrote a bit of flash fiction for my critique group. We had a few picture prompts of falling leaves, owls and witches, and I came up with this short piece for Halloween. I hope you enjoy it.

The Halloween Grouch

β€œWhat are you doing?” I asked, glaring down at my boyfriend while he ripped open a large box with a familiar smile logo on the side.

β€œI bought you some Halloween decorations.” Brad looked up and grinned as though it should be obvious.

β€œWhat?” I dropped my bag. It landed with a heavy thud on the smooth floorboards.

β€œYou knowβ€”pumpkin lights, webs, skeletons, the usual.” Brad delved deeper into the box, pulling out items covered in garish images of Jack-o’-lanterns, skulls and bats.

I glowered at the offensive objects that littered the floor of my once pristine hallway. β€œIt’s only the first of October.”

β€œI know, but we have to be prepared if we’re going to host a party on October thirty-first.”

β€œWhat?” My mouth dropped open.

β€œStop saying β€˜what’ and get in the Halloween mood.” Brad stood and placed his hands on my waist. β€œCome on.” His fingers caressed my hips. β€œDon’t you just love the fall: the crisp leaves fluttering to the ground, cosy evenings snuggling on the couch.” He leaned in and kissed my forehead.

β€œI love those autumnal activities, but autumn and Halloween are two different things.” I wriggled out of his embrace. β€œWhat I don’t love are bratty kids knocking on my door demanding sweets because some American hyped up a what was originally a day to reflect upon loved ones who had passed on and call it a—” I raised my arms, bobbed my forefingers, and adopted my terrible American accent β€” β€œholiday.”

Brad frowned. β€œRemind me why I’m dating an uptight Brit who loves to cling to the past like a life preserver in a storm.” A smile spread across his face. β€œWait, you’re a Halloween grinch, aren’t you?”

β€œI am not!” I sighed and marched into the kitchen. β€œI just don’t like people constantly knocking on my door when I would rather be left alone.” I paused before I picked up the kettle and turned on the tap. β€œBesides, the Grinch hates Christmas, not Halloween.”

The Halloween Grouch
Photo by Monstera from Pexels

I kept my eyes on the water as it flowed into the kettle. If there were a Halloween equivalent of The Grinch, I would win hands down. I hated having to smile and joke with the kids, pretending to like their costumes, then hand out sweetsβ€”only to have to leave the comfort of my overstuffed couch and do it all again five minutes later. I would rather close the curtains, shut off the lights, and snuggle into bed with a good book. Reading under the covers by torchlight, of course.

If I had known Brad was such a big fan, I would never have considered dating him. Okay, that was a little harsh, even for me.

Brad chuckled behind me. β€œCome on, it’ll be fun.”

I rolled my eyes, then turned and froze.

Brad leaned against the doorframe with his legs crossed at the ankles. He waved a shimmering cellophane bag in the air that contained what appeared to be black velvet and web-patterned filmy fabric. β€œI got you a costume.” He shook the bag before him.

β€œI am not wearing that… whatever it is!”

β€œIt’s a witch’s costume. That way you’ll get away with being grumpy the entire evening while the rest of us enjoy ourselves.”

β€œWhat the hell makes you think you can even have a party in my house without asking me?”

Brad shrugged. β€œI knew you’d say no.”

β€œOf course I’d say no.” I dumped the kettle on its stand and flipped the switch with more force than necessary. β€œI don’t want strangers wandering around my house. Besides, I’d have to talk to them, and you know I hate that!”

β€œCome on, even introverts come out of their caves now and again.” He stepped forward, flipped the bag around, and pointed at the image of a woman on the back. β€œLook, it comes with purple-and-black striped panty hose.”

β€œTights.”

β€œWhatever. You love purple.” He tossed the offending item onto the pine dining table and leaned in, placing his hands on the kitchen counter behind me. β€œBedsides, I’ve already invited loads of people from the office.”

β€œWell, you can politely rescind their invitations.”

His bottom lip jutted out, and he blinked his puppy dog eyes.

Damn him! He knew I couldn’t resist those deep brown orbs. I leaned back from the waist in a feeble attempt to create some space between us. The kettle bubbled away on the countertop behind me.

β€œI’m going as Dumbledore.” He whispered in my ear. β€œIf you dress up for me, I might let you play with my wand.”

β€œWell, I’m just not Dumbledore’s type.” I forced my arms between us and folded them across my chest.

β€œWhy not?” He rolled his hips against me.

β€œYou know Dumbledore’s gayβ€”right?”

He jerked backwards. β€œWhat?”

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