"Why so sad, little pumpkin?" the girl asked.
"I don't think I'm in the right place," the pumpkin replied.
"Whatever do you mean?" the girl questioned. "You are, after all, in a pumpkin patch."
"It's not that I don't believe I fit in here," the pumpkin said. "I know that I'm loved. My family is here, or so it seems."
"Then why do you seem so out of place?" the girl wondered.
"I just think that maybe I'm meant to be somewhere else," the pumpkin mused. "Have you ever seen a place that felt more like home than anywhere you've lived?"
The girl nodded, remembering a place that lit up her heart. She closed her eyes as she remembered an autumn breeze, the sound of it rustling through the trees, bringing to life the scarecrows that lined the fence in the park that gave her peace like nothing she'd ever experienced before. She thought of a legend, and gas lanterns in a cemetery on a rainy fall night. Pumpkins blazing in huge displays, merging to take on shapes larger than life.
Yes, it was safe to say, she knew that feeling all too well.
"Perhaps I am a true descendant of the Headless Horseman's pumpkin," the pumpkin spoke again.
And the girl smiled.
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