One Night of Halloween

It was the eve of mystery, and the night of unholy magic.  

Thus the hour that supernatural powers ruled the earth and the dead flocked back to mingle among the living.

I could feel it in the air as the tip of my ears tingled from fear.

Clouds parted and a darkening sky revealed an orange moon peeking through twisted bare branches of trees, while crisp colorful crackling dry leaves rustled down lonely paths.

What secrets were they sharing? Were they whispering about visions of broomsticks and white sheets hovering across that dark sky? Or were they awakening skeletons into rattling their bones beneath the earth as they welcomed the night set apart from all others for a universal walking of spirits, those seen and those unseen?

A gust of cold wind brushed up from behind. I shivered and folded my arms, trembling.

All the invisible forces were at work as everywhere the power of darkness grew stronger and the night appeared to swallow more daylight.

Slowly I turned and looked back at that lonely path that I had just traveled.

Where did the cold winds suddenly come from?

I turned forward.

And where did the warm winds suddenly go?

I glanced up at the changing sky again. Threatening gray clouds of smoke swirling above treetops deep within the woods gave no comfort as the thought of gathering witches and sorcerers entered my mind, creating spells to welcome their triumphant festival of fall.

Cries of incantations would echo past graveyards and rooftops this night awakening their masters from the underworld.

I cupped my ears to block out the sound. Tiptoeing, I quickened my pace.

At the corner of an old, old house down the trail, a jack-o’-lantern’s jagged grin and eerie glow peeked out from a window. Another one peered from under the porch and a third from the field behind; all sharing that same jagged grin and all guarding that house from whatever evil spirit or witch may come.

Just then I notice the towering tree beside the house with a large sign of the cross cut into the trunk. I cowered and looked up to see if tightfisted Jack still had the devil trapped inside its branches above.

A branch shook, I moved away, hurrying down that dimly lit path into that dark night, where I must cross to get home, trampling patches of crackling dry leaves covering moonlit tombstones, and through twisted bare branches while almost casting my eyes on what I thought was a gathering of witches combing their hair to conjure a storm, while a cauldron spewing clouds of smoke bubbled, and cries of incantations called out to ghosts dancing among the earthbound.

I covered my head and ran before any more secrets of the night revealed themselves.