INKPOT: Halloween

Poem by Anna Royle – Creative Writing Editor

Velcro scratches my back like tiny teeth, perforated satin stretches across an empty stomach, primed for gulping down bubbling apple cider and petrol-tasting coke from a red cup— camouflaging lipstick stamps, until my lungs are retching from the shadowy smoke, lifting leaves mushed like Stu’s brains after the television, back into the vermillion bokeh, a cackling plastic witch greets me as I steal a sweet from a zombie claw.

Cotton cobwebs tickle my neck as it bends like Victoria Pedretti in the show that I bet you thought was too slow— an own-brand Dracula— clean goggles of peachy skin, the jammy inside of your lip swoops in, scattering me towards the Scooby Gang, thumping to the Time Warp. I went to school with Daphne, ginger wig static in the sweaty air. My red wine remodels the lilac dress to a deep magenta and Fred’s looking more attractive than ever.

I try to leave the hallway, dying to join the others drowning in the depth of festivity. A Ghost Buster’s hands are slapped on my shoulders, my heels stuffed into the carpet. Apparently I need to leave— now. His sigh is met with my smile through the bile dripping on my lips at the irony of his American janitor jumpsuit with his prop of a mop, his PU leather boots polished with floor cleaner. Ankles twist, the heartbeat of the house pulses through my head. I fell asleep until November. I hope the Christmas party is better.

Published by The Gown Queen's University Belfast

The Gown has provided respected, quality and independent student journalism from Queen's University, Belfast since its 1955 foundation, by Dr. Richard Herman. Having had an illustrious line of journalists and writers for almost 70 years, that proud history is extremely important to us. The Gown is consistent in its quest to seek and develop the talents of aspiring student writers.

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