That's quite the haul you have there son …

Yeah dad, they're giving out great stuff this year

Where did these unwrapped candies come from?

Oh, those, yeah, from that old house on the corner!

But there hasn't been a house on that corner for years …

Believe

{Waning Gibbous}

"There are no Vampires!"

He said it, even after she had punctured the skin. He repeated it to himself even as his blood was being drawn. He said it yet again, his last rational thought as his life was draining away. His inner voice, the one that knew, told him this could not have happened . . . yesterday.

Then his defense mechanism kicked in.

"This isn't happening to me!"

Her mind screamed even after her limb was severed. She had been taught to beware her only natural enemy. Even disembowelment could not shake her convictions. "This can't be happening," she repeated, knowing she had always been careful, still tracking the phases of the moon, even after they had been declared extinct.

Even as her head went in one way and her torso the other, her last thought had been:

"There are no Werewolves!"

Potty Talk

Pitching a slalom around unseen obstacles, the old timer already well into his cups was hoping to make room for just one more. Finding his favored urinal already occupied he unhappily moved to the left, offering a sidewards glare in the general direction of the interloper. Not usually one for toilet talk, he couldn't help himself.

"Man, you should have that looked at."

"Seems to me someone is already looking."

"But mister, you're pissing blood."

"Yes I am, but it’s not mine."

The old man stepped back to look full at the stranger and was greeted with a fang-toothed smile.

The Horri-day Blues

(with apologies Messrs. Poe and Moore)

Halloween afternoon was slipping away

The would be tricksters kept sweetly at bay

I was a bit disappointed perhaps even mad

Garbed were my callers in the latest fad

Oh to the days when spirits did stalk

And ghouls and goblins did fill up my walk

Farewell I bid to those days of yore

Today they are all bought in a store

A river of costumes flowed past my shore

it was time to withdraw from my or treat chore

and sit in a chair with an old book of lore

As this I pondered perhaps even napping

There came the sound of a small hand tapping

A tiny rapping I could not ignore

but to quote the Raven, nevermore

when this last caller retreats from my door

But what to my wondering eyes did appear

There, shrouded in darkness a creature of fear

He stood just before me in all of his glory

A home made costume and all of it gory

His face was a fright so expertly painted

A less stout heart would surely have fainted

His head was encircled by a dark felt cowl

I was expecting a scream or even a howl

He seemed a bit nervous, shuffling his feet

perhaps drawing courage to ask for his treat

Thru plastic fangs he drooled Frik Hor Freet

I held in my laughter with all of my might

My body was shaking seeming from fright

My heart was a flutter my chest in full heave

His parents glanced back upon taking leave

Some people I cried  ...  They do believe !