Falling leaves. Fading daylight. Frightful impatience. Now can we go?
Monsters spill onto the sidewalks. Little goblins trample my toes without apology. Excited kids race ahead. Costumes come alive. Shoes squeak. Fabric rustles. Capes flutter.
Breeze smells of dinner and decaying brush piles. It ruffles hair and hems. Somebody’s hat tumbles down the street. Pumpkins grimace from perches on porches. Candy wrappers hop-scotch across the asphalt.
Strangers at doors. Tombstones on lawns. Cobwebs like tentacles. Lights flicker. Shadows lurk. Darkness descends. Faces look creepy. Voices too loud. Costume is sweaty. Cold. Tired. Scared.
Sticky fingers. Achy tummies. Off to bed, sweet sleepy heads. Wait! What was that?! A werewolf’s nails on glass? Little feet thunder down the hall. Cold toes stab daddy’s ribs. His yelp echoes down the hall and then all is quiet but for mama's weary snore … and the brambles scratching at the door.