Tombstones like toothpicks rise from the Earth. Bobby promised the moon would be full tonight. Would illuminate the entire cemetery. Only he didn’t mention clouds would completely obscure the moonlight.
A single lone oak tree spreads across the center of the boneyard. Bobby is supposed to whistle twice, the signal, when he’s ready. Only he didn’t count on the howling wind muffling all other sound.
Thunder crackles. A lightning strike. Bobby skirting between tombstones. It all happens in a flash. A bat flaps its wings. Then Bobby rolls up next to me. We’re hunkered together. Leaning into a headstone belonging to Howard Metcalf, dead some forty-six years.
“I caught it,” Bobby whispers, breathless. “Pikachu.”
Editor’s note: I did research on the most popular Halloween costumes this year, and I’m going to do a flash fiction entry every day for a different costume leading up to Halloween. The one above? Pokémon. Come back and visit. And write in your costume suggestion for an upcoming episode in the comments … if you dare! Mwahahahahaha!