In honor of the holiday, here’s my own Halloween short story: “Clasp Hands” (published in Daily Science Fiction in 2014).
Here’s a quick excerpt from the opening:
The smallest witch hung over the banister, her whole body forming an arc of yearning, as the first of her mother’s friends arrived for their annual feast.
“Bella!” It was Aunt Calliope, bursting into the house in a cloud of snow, wrapped up in a six-foot scarf. She was already unwinding the scarf as she spoke to her hostess, midnight-blue wool and white stars swirling around her round, comfortable body. “Terrible weather! That traffic, can you believe it…?”
But the smallest witch knew better than to listen to what Calliope said in those first, guarded moments. She looked instead, with her eyes half-closed, until she saw what was hiding underneath: the glimmer of gold filling the air around Calliope, and the tiny owl who hid, buried deep in Calliope’s curly brown hair, blinking out at the smallest witch with a deep yellow gaze.
As the owl’s eyes blinked twice, Calliope looked up. “And Katy!” She beamed and blew a kiss up the stairs, her long scarf dangling from her fingers. “Look how big you are! Is your mama finally letting you stay up this year?”
“Absolutely not!” said Katy’s mom. The black-and-gold leopard on the back of her sweater seemed to arch and stretch in warning as she whisked Calliope’s scarf away and hung it over Katy’s favorite coat hook, the one shaped like an eagle’s head…