Underneath the craggy October moonlight, a quaint old mansion stood, soaked in mystery. Its only resident was a little old lady, Mrs. Abernathy. She was peculiar, but kind, always sewing something curious for the neighborhood kids.
As Halloween approached, children gathered, their hearts throbbing, at her aging front gate. One by one, they knocked, their faces disguised with anticipation and slight fear.
Mrs. Abernathy opened the door, her costume a patchwork of technicolor fabrics, blending eerily with her regular self. There was laughter, and then there was gasping as she unwrapped her Halloween surprise.
A ghostly, gleaming quilt was held high above her head, hauntingly beautiful. Each patch, sewn painstakingly with threads spun from moonlight and mystery, hosted a story as enthralling as it was terrifying.
And as she dropped the quilt to reveal its full glory, a surprise! The quilt was a book and each patch, a chapter. Children could hear their own voices, woven into the fabric of those ghostly tales.
It turned out Mrs. Abernathy was not a lone old woman, but a weaver of stories, who sewed together the bravest snippets of dialogues heard around the year, to craft a patchwork Halloween surprise. Magic, indeed, was real, and it lived in an old woman’s sewing.