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The squirrel stood before the jack-o'-lantern as though attending a lecture. Light spilled through the carved grin, goldening his whiskers, his paws, the small gray fur of his chest. The pumpkin gazed outward with its permanent astonishment. The squirrel gazed inward. Neither moved. For a moment, the evening seemed to contain two different kinds of mystery: one illuminated from within, the other asking why.
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