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Here I sit in the field, waiting for the moon to rise. In lonely splendor I glow a brilliant orange. Forgotten by those hunting for their special perfect round one, I am more than they know. See the moon rises and so do I. I slowly push up from the ground, my roots tearing from the soil that nourished me. I stand and a grin breaks across my face. A eerie glow filling the field from my eyes. It is Halloween and it is my time now. The night when magic rises and I am once again the Pumpkin King.

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