“here i am”, he thought. unable to speak, unable to move. “but she couldn’t have…” he started to think of earlier; how he kept nagging at her, complaining about her. why couldn’t he just appreciate her? or, why couldn’t he see that eventually, she could blow up, or worse… “i guess i can’t blame her” he thought, looking around. he noticed he was with the harvest crops. the pumpkin patch to be exact. “so what am i doing here? she’ll come back for me, we’ll sort this out” but somehow he knew that she had put up with him for too long, that maybe this time it wouldn’t end well. he tried again to move but to no avail. he saw her coming out of the house, walking towards him. “this is it”. she bent low and grabbed him. “why is she holding me? why am i so light?” she brought him into the house and passing a mirror he saw what he was. he began to tremble in fear as he noticed she had walked into the kitchen, the oven on with a cookbook on the table. he looked and saw it opened to the page for “pumpkin pie”...