i love my pumpkin. it sleeps with me in my bed every night. it's cold, just like my bedroom, very cold. and it's hard and round and bright bright orange just like a pumpkin should be. one day i'll carve it with a knife to make it smile. one day it will rot, sinking teeth, smile to frown. and i'll throw it outside to decompose and be buried by the snow.
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Fine little delicacy