Zoe and the Halloween Night

Sample story

The moon hangs low and orange over the rooftops, and Zoe's heart is beating so fast she can feel it through her sparkly witch costume. The street smells like candle wax and fallen leaves, and every porch glows with grinning pumpkin faces. Her candy bucket is already half full, and the night is still young. But then she hears it — a tiny sniffle coming from behind the old oak tree at the corner of Maple Street. Zoe stops. She tilts her head and listens. There it is again, soft and sad, like the wind trying to cry. She tiptoes closer, her black cape swishing against the damp grass. And there, hovering just above the roots, is a small ghost. He is no bigger than Zoe herself, and he glows a pale, silvery blue. His eyes are wide and shimmering, and he is hugging his own ghostly knees. "Are you… okay?" Zoe whispers. The little ghost looks up, startled. "You can see me?" he asks, his voice as quiet as rustling leaves. Zoe kneels down and smiles. "Of course I can. It's Halloween — the one night when anything is possible."