Welcome to Tuesday Tales, powered by a small group of authors, where word prompts inspire passages in the books we’re writing. The word of the day is pie. Here is Part 2 of my Halloween story. In Part 1 (read it here) Juniper Duncan and her pretend dog, Taffy, are out playing and exploring, after a stern warning from Granny to stay away from the swamp: “It’s said the Yam Potato Man lives out there.” Juniper wants nothing to do with such a scary personage, but she also remembers the colorful leaves she once glimpsed near the swamp’s edge. When you finish the passage, make sure to visit all the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.
Last year Juniper had ventured near the swamp, before Granny started all the dire warnings to avoid it. She hadn’t continued in, because Taffy had been afraid. Still, she had never forgotten the astonishing glimpse of the leaves. They had glittered like rare jewels through the dark, entangled branches. Granny once said that her cottage stood too far south for the neighboring trees to put on autumn finery. Juniper had seen how the leaves in the swamp were different. The colors sparkled in her head–red, orange, purple, and gold. She guessed it was swamp magic that made them so vivid. “I must see them!” she told Taffy. “Don’t you want to?” “Yip!” replied her best friend who, after all, was more grown up now.
They tiptoed inside the edge of the darkened swamp and stood, awestruck. Jeweled leaves hung sparsely on tree limbs. Many more wet and shiny ones splattered the ground. They also covered the strange, protruding cypress knees, and even floated in the dark, still pools of water. Taffy scampered around, jumping and sniffing. Juniper wrinkled her nose. An earthy scent flooded the area. She took another step. The leaves were glorious. If she had a basket, she could collect a bunch, dry them out, and make a crown. The princess that cried diamonds and rubies had nothing over the jewels in here.
“Yam potatoes,” said a low, slow, spine-tingling voice.
Juniper stiffened and froze in her tracks. The sound had come from beyond the far clump of cypress knees.
“Yam potatoes.” The menacing voice was louder now, and closer. Much closer.
Eyes wide, Juniper backed up several steps, and Taffy with her.
“Yam potatoes!” The sinister voice blared, right in front of her, seemingly from a dark and gaping maw. Something grabbed her arm.
Wrenching loose, Juniper turned and raced as fast as she could out of the swamp. Taffy darted beside her, barking frantically.
Juniper plopped down among the tall grasses to calm down and catch her breath. Taffy soothed her with nose bumps and affectionate licks. Finally, she was able to return to Granny’s cottage.
‘Just in time for supper!” exclaimed Granny, her face crinkling into a wide smile. She hovered proudly beside a bountiful table covered with roast beef, cornbread, peas, and sliced tomatoes. “And look what’s for dessert.” She held it up. A perfectly browned pastry shell cradled a shining mound of cinnamon scented goodness. “Yam potato pie!”
Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the piece inspired by the word pie, and my Yam Potatoes story. If you haven’t done so already, check out the other excerpts at Tuesday Tales.
Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Spirited Stories
All rights reserved, copyright @ 2025 Flossie Benton Rogers
