I had a dream about Halloween! I swear I’m not as absolutely shallow as my dreams seem to sketch me as of late.
It is a frosty, black evening, a big white moon cuddles spooky purple clouds, the witching hour is at hand! Shivering dramatically, I walk slowly, poetically, past darkened eves, clinging a thin, static plastic bag. With no moors to look out across wistfully, I revel in the gloom of trick-or-treating quietly. It’s just me, and mostly I just want to be alone. I have no costume, and my knees actually knock from the cold like clogs against grandfather clocks. I never question the lack of ghouls and fairy’s, or why my usually festive neighborhood seems derelict, I just walk, and eventually, I’m back home, at my mother’s house.
There is a bowl of untouched sweets on the porch, attached to a bit of a “help yourself” mentality that makes me smile. I pick up the bowl and it seems to grow huge in my hands as I upend it into my own bag, taking everything for myself, and walking inside. As I sat on the couch in the dark, my mother came downstairs worried that I was back so soon. Surely I could have stayed out later and acquired more candy, but I hug her, saying candy was not my purpose for going out. We whispered more about candy, waking my younger brother Ross.
He came downstairs concerned that if we left the bowl unsupervised kids might just take all the candy and run. I hugged him and erased his troubles, saying I had done just that, and there was nobody out tonight anyhow. We all went upstairs and I tucked them in, first Ross, then my mother. My room was far too hot to sleep in, so I came down the stairs once more and snuggled up on the sofa.