I do love a Three Sentence Short Story, and Halloween stories lend themselves exceptionally well to the structure. So, without further ado:
Halloween is my most hated night of the year. I’m forced to go out and eat things I don’t like, just out of a sense of tradition. Why won’t Dad accept that I’m a vegetarian now and stop forcing me to eat human flesh?
I want to tell her how much I love her. How her shining intellect allures me as much as her vivacious personality. But after that man bit me on the way here, it just comes out as ‘Braaaaaiiinnnssss’.
Halloween is my most hated night of the year. All sense of tradition has gone from it, no feel of terror remains. All that’s left is the sickly taste of sugar on their blood.
Being haunted wasn’t so bad. It was nice to have a reminder of what I’d lost. My innocence, her corpse and the murder weapon.