Something Wicked This Way Comes...

The air has changed, Autumn's breath is chilled, and soured with rotting leaves; its hair is gilded, its skin, ruddy. Halloween is just weeks away.

Fall is my favorite season, and Halloween, my favorite holiday. For the month of October, every Friday will be Ghost Story Friday, instead of Morbid Poetry Friday. Get that old flashlight out the drawer, make sure the batteries work, draw your cloak tight around you, fondle the crucifix around your neck if it'll make you feel better, and prepare to have the living daylights scared out of you.

If you'll excuse me, I must depart to that very dark place inside, tiptoeing around my fears, lurking where they lurk, breathing what they breathe, dreaming what they dream, studying them as they sleep, taking great care not to stir them.

Night night.
Sleep tight.
Don't let the begbugs or the vampires bite.

Trepidatiously,


Cindy