Fall’s Bitter Harvest
Little ghouls and goblins, eyes glowing in the night, knocking on doors and prowling alleyways. Creatures looking for tasty treats or a trick to play. Don’t come to the door empty-handed. Best not to come at all.
Scurrying around the countryside until the break of day, tiny claws and fangs dripping red. Only gourds, carefully carved into lanterns, and food offerings can hope to bar their passage.
Hide your children in the cellar and your wife behind the locked bedroom door. The Good Book has no power here. They know your time will come.
