There were pumpkins, and then there were pumpkins.
She looked all around the field that day. There were more shapes, sizes, and colors with this crop.
Death pulled up behind her in His tractor. “Hop in.”
‘What?’ she sputtered. ‘I have so mu-’
“There’s nothing to do here that can’t wait a few more minutes or hours or-”
‘Yes, time is relative, I get it,’ she interjected.
“Relative to what, my dear?”
‘To Itself.’