A coolness is slipping through the air and the leaves are turning their subdued rainbow. Jack-o-Lanterns are popping up here and there, so Halloween must be close.
Here’s a writing hook to help get you in the mood. Feel free to draw inspiration from it.
The moon was soft, rounding sharp edges and painting shadows with gentle strokes. The stars overhead were bright, but felt somehow expectant. With a shiver, he pushed into the giant grass before him. The sky was swallowed in the green waving blades, only glimpses peeking through here and there. He heard it again. That whispering susurration that lead him here. He didn’t know what it was, only that he must follow it.
He moved deeper into this strange growth. Never had he seen grass grow this tall. It reached above his head, seed pods as big as this thumb. Could it even still be called grass when it was this tall, he wondered? Somehow the name no longer seemed to fit.
The sound was closer. He could feel he was almost there. He paused, took a deep breath, then parted the grass before him. There a thin green stalk sprouted from the earth, slightly shorter than the surrounding grass. Something round and partially covered in shadow dangled from its end. He leaned closer to peer through the darkness. The object turned, bobbing slightly. It was a face. It blinked.