Sometimes, like this year, you are frigid.  Just shy of seeing dragon breath.

You bring out the fun in strangers.  It creeps kids out sometimes.  Me too.

Candy is not a remedy for pinching cheeks and enthusiastic grannies.

Sometimes, like this year, the streets are kind of empty.

Once, like this year, you were cause for mounting a big screen TV on the garage door and sitting around a fire pit watching football.  Their buddy, the cop, thought it was fun too.  He hung out for a while.  We got two candies for the price of one house.

You remind me of an autumn childhood.  Robinhood bow lovingly crafted.  Punk hair meticulously colored.  Wrapped in layers of my mothers hippie skirts.  Little orange boxes rattling with pennies for unicef.  Adolescent boys chasing each other with silly string, eggs, and toilet paper.

This year I just tagged along.  She dashed ahead, a mouse.  Her babysitter, her lovingly doted on big best friend, a cat, sauntered beside her.  I just tagged behind.  There as witness to the candy collection.

You are fun, Halloween.

I hope you never go away.