The children gather round I for the annual Hallows Evening story |
Hallows Evening is almost upon us dear children, gather round and sit comfortable, are you scared? "No, good sir" one replies, with fear either hidden or barren You should be, say I, for here children are not even spared. One shuffled, scraping the sapped crimson carpet, others just gazed in fated anticipation and one picked his nose, Oblivious the young mind is, yet not even I know the tall truth of it so I lit another cigar, and then only did i proceed to disclose: Hallows Evening, once not a petty dizzard's delight was once long ago a time when the moon loons roamed a night quite as black and as cold and as grim as tonight where the dead arose; the Tiber, blood-red foamed and dear children, petit little delicate flowers you are, all the horrors in all the universe and beyond did rise, and by this truth I do swear - the damned devil does break his hell bond The moon awakens from eternal sleep those whom crawl and fly and moan and creak - but wait! Dear children, do you hear the creaking? for if my ears are not askew, we will soon be weeping; The flitting of the floorboards and fallen feet do devils down damp and dingy stairs? or is this just a trick and bittersweet treat? for I see that you are all just fear and neck hairs Suddenly, a sharp smash; the window has by wind been smashed? all faces to the dark corner, quick as a lash to see the emerging ecstatic eyes of a young lass. Like gangrene, grins are infectious like poison in pumpkin punch used in drips and dabs and not to excess like lettuce in a chicken salad lunch I climb over a carpet of corpses, drop my cigar to set the evidence alight, for now their lives are forfeit and now I bid you goodnight. |