I couldn’t scrape an original turn of phrase out of my head with a pumpkin scoop. Oh, I got plenty of stringy, seedy “things” out of there, but most ended up wadded up in a paper towel in the trash bin.
Finally (and I do mean finally), I dug out a tiny pocket of keepers as dusk settled over the landscape of pumpkin innards.
I share this for two reasons:
1.) Don’t ever give up, writers. Something salvageable might yet be found in the old gourd.
2.) I’m still scraping goop out of the old skull, and I ran out of paper towels ages ago, so… well… yeah. Sorry.