Short Stories

Just Dessurts

The day had started out like any other. Mrs Figg had never imagined she’d end up talking to a pumpkin, let alone a glowing one. Yet there it was, sat on the kitchen counter, talking to her.
“Don’t you want to stop those children from ruining your vegetables?” It asked.
“Well yes, I do but how are you going to help? You’re a pumpkin. How is it even possible that you can talk and why are you glowing?” Mrs Figg straightened her big, round glasses. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing or hearing.
“I’ll come up with ideas then you shall be the one to act on them, my dear. Now, how do you feel about murder?”

The pumpkin didn’t have a face, or limbs. It would just seem like a normal pumpkin to anyone passing by unless they noticed the slight glow coming from it. Little did Mrs Figg know, someone had been passing by...but they decided to eavesdrop.

Mrs Figg had always been a nice old lady, or at least she tried to be. It was hard for her, being alone after her wifesband died. Sam had been a good partner for Mrs Figg. They bought out the good in her. She missed them a lot, always wearing her wedding ring. She started growing vegetables to pass the time. Unfortunately some kids started going into her garden and ruining her vegetable patch. Mrs Figg tried to talk to them but they always came back the next day. She knew not all the kids were bad, they had just gone down the wrong path but it was frustrating. No matter how hard she tried most of her vegetables would end up being dug up and destroyed.

Mrs Figg sighed as she salvaged what she could. There were a few carrots, a potato or two, and a single pumpkin. Despite her age Mrs Figg was strong. She picked up the large vegetable and took it inside. It was ready to be cooked. She set it on the counter and brushed off any dirt before getting an old recipe book down from a shelf.
“I think pumpkin soup would be good for tonight.” She muttered to herself. It had become a habit after her partner died.

It was 19:30, the perfect time to start making it.

Mrs Figgs got a knife out of the draw and got everything ready. Just as she was about to cut the pumpkin a small voice came from it.
“Don’t cut me.” The voice squeaked.
Mrs Figgs was taken aback. Surely the voice didn’t come from the pumpkin. She shook her head and possitioned the knife.
“I don’t want to be cut! It will hurt!”
It had! The small voice had come from the pumpkin!
“This....This isn’t possible, you’re a pumpkin. How are you able to talk?” She asked, putting the knife on the counter.
“Of course it’s possible. It’s happening.” The pumpkin said rudely.
“I can’t believe this is happening. A pumpkin, talking.” Mrs Figg laughed, not believing her ears.
"Well it is happening. Now, don't you want to stop those children from ruining your vegetable patch?"
"How do you know about that?"
"I was there. Now, answer my question. Don't you want to stop those children ruining your vegetables?"

Jane had just been sneaking past Mrs Figg's window to get out of the garden. It was a mirical she hadn't been caught. As she passed the kitchen she heard Mrs Figgs talking to herself again but something caught her attention. The word 'murder'. Jane peaked through the window to see what was going on. Was the old lady talking to a pumpkin?
"I don't want to murder anyone!" Mrs Figg exclaimed. The pumpkin gave no reply because....well, it's a pumpkin. Mrs Figg looked at it as if it had been saying something. "Well I didn't know those veegtables were sentient. If I had I wouldn't have eaten them."
Vegetables? Sentient? The idea was laughable. After a bit more of Mrs Figg talking to herself, she came to a decition.
"Ok fine. I'll do it. It's not as if anyone will suspect me...I'm just a little old lady after all..."
Jane's eyes widened as she realised what this ment. She started running out of the garden, all concerns of being caught forgotten. She had to warn her friends and tell the police.