In the Village by Anshul Achanta - 2nd Place Winner of the Halloween Writing Competition 2025

The village seems dead till the clock hits seven,

But then escapes from the clutches of heaven.

From a village that lacked any noise or sound

To a flourishing fair which left me astound.

Children went knocking door after door, as they go:

"Trick or treat!", they shout then lo!

A hand of candy drops into their bag

And then to the next door, their feet drag.

Don't forget about the best treat of all.

It isn't any sort of candy, big nor small.

Look to the left—and then you’ll see

A haunted house whose entry is free.

A ghost from the left and a zombie from the right

And lights that flicker you into a vivid fright,

Where genius and tradition both combine—

A view, only in the Astons' might you find.

But that didn't scare me, not a bit at all;

What did though, made me actually bawl:

Just how the village had sprung into joy,

Soon did it return to quiet destroy.

The village stays dead for a long time to wait,

For only at Christmas will glee reinstate.

So now the pumpkins rot outside,

And the lights and joy are all trapped inside.