It’s no longer Halloween Eve. People are still wearing masks trying to plot and deceive. The gremlins and inmates have been released from prison. Psychiatric asylums across the nation have been emptied before Thanksgiving. Staggering zombies will feast on unaware gardeners busy blowing and picking up leaves. Innocent children playing in the parks, swing on tires attached to chains that hang on limbs from trees. On this day its the beginning of no end. It’s hallows’ eve.
A sea of red and blue painted faces reflect the horrific images of a crisis that’s taking the country by storm. The overpowering sight from the beam of the moonlight stretch across the pavement begins to form. It invokes a strange howling sound from wolves as civil unrest fill the air. Only the brave will survive.
With the frost in the air along with the scent of fear best describe a picture that winter is near. In Houston there’ll be no tricks nor songs to recite. Treats in the most worst human form will be the delicacy tonight. The admission is free and it just may cost you your life. The Braves have won the World Series. It’s going to be that kind of a night. The evening had a strange calm which was felt miles away. Fingernails claw across a chalkboard. The screeching sound pulsates the ear. The warning was vibrant and clear. Winter is coming. It’s that time of the year.