Hallows.

The sun sets later now, in this imitation of Summer. The mornings are grey without foreboding, but with dampened enthusiasm. The skies are heavy bated-breath, weighted and waiting. Waiting for what? a Sign from the day, a welcoming or a thrusting away. Today the clouds scattered into the ether, away without reproach, fleeing a scene.

Today was chaos then peace. A wave of action and sloth. The sun shone in surprise. I read my book in the glare, blinded momentarily by the whiteness of the page. Dog and girl, they lay sprawled in the sun like ragdolls. The leaves rustled, but the air was still. Time whispered away. The afternoon passed without event. The dog and the girl, they were content in the contained idyll

The streets are awash and awake with children in costume, children in disguise. There are witches and warlocks, demons and ghouls, parading in dappled light. Harried parents and enthusiastic youth buoyed by sugar sugar and unbridled excitement. My mother and my dog linger in the doorway, eager to greet the adventuring visitors. My mother dishes out praise and confectionary with a liberal hand. The stoic devils break facade and squeal at the boisterous pup.