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One Bountiful Halloween by Mark Ralston

One Bountiful Halloween by Mark Ralston

Published 4 years, 7 months ago
Description
Creepypasta and True Scary StoriesHalloween 2021
Spooky Boo's Scary Story TimeEpisode 257 One Bountiful Halloween by Mark Ralston
A fun spooky Halloween story about death and scareacrows.
Listen commercial free with extra commentary and perks on Patreonhttps://www.patreon.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Listen on the Podcast (Spotify, Apple Podcasts, Amazon Music, Pandora, Audible) or read on the website.https://www.scarystorytime.com
YouTubehttps://www.youtube.com/spookybooscarystorytime
TITLE: One Bountiful HalloweenAUTHOR: Mark RalstonLINK: https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/One_Bountiful_Halloween
Background Sounds Spooky Boo
TranscriptGood evening, it's Spooky Boo coming to you from the radio waves of the KSND radio station in Sandcastle, California. If you're hearing this broadcast then we've made it past the fog and the spooky vibes are carrying the signal through the haunted airwaves directly into your soul.Tonight I have for you another wonderful story by MarkRalston. If you didn't know, Mark also has a spooky YouTube channel that can be found as "Haunt Former" on YouTube, but to get the link directly, visit my website at www.scarystorytime.com and his channel will be linked in the episode.This channel would not be possible without the listeners and Patreon members including madjoe, P. A. Nightmares, Ivy Iverson, Jenn Mishievous, John Newby, Patrick, and 933TheVolt.com. If you would like to be a supporter of the show and get the podcast commercial-free on Patreon or get some merchandise such as t-shirts, pillows, and mugs visit www.scarystorytime.com/support.Now let's begin...One Bountiful Halloweenby MarkRalstonI leaned back, appreciating the handiwork of the birdhouse I had quite literally placed the last nail into. My eyes, squinting into the late October glow of an orange-yellow sunset, followed the horizon to the apple tree planted directly out front of my farmhouse. I spit one leftover nail onto the wooden porch deck, as I meandered down the front steps and over to the broad tree, draping the birdhouse on one of its branches.You’d never know it was an apple tree unless I pointed it out. The poor thing had been barren for months, and I feared one more harsh winter would be the end of it. It was, sometimes, a painful memory to look at that tree. My late wife Marge and I planted it decades ago. We’d always pick the freshest fruit from it, picnic in the shadow of its branches, and enjoy some of her sweet apple pies. She always made the best pies.But now, the tree was dying. I had neglected it. And the rest of my land followed suit. Everything was dying. If truth be told, the only critters that wouldn’t die out here were the damn rats. As hard as I tried, no matter how much rat poison and sugar I sprinkled on the porch, they wouldn’t go away. Eventually, I just gave up on ‘em.I had lost most of my motivation after Marge passed, and this lack of care extended beyond the crops and trees. I hadn’t shaved in weeks, and half the time I didn’t bother to shower. It was
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