Mrs. Evans promised her son Jimmy he could be the same thing this year for Halloween that he has been for the last five years. This does not prevent her from trying to change his mind. After all, at four it was cute, but now at nine!

This is just a quick note to let those who keep track know that I'm still present.

The boy finishes his tale

Guising

by miss circe

Lizzie didn’t even think. The promise of shelter and money would be a success on any night, never mind a night such as this. She hiked up her skirts and climbed into the dark carriage, closing the door behind her.

There was a flash of steel in the dark.

The boy continues to recount his tale

The boy continues to tell his story and things begin to go south for the friends.

The boy begins to tell Charlotte his story of the trouble his friends dragged him into over Halloween

A boy gets dragged into an unfortunate situation due to his friends fooling around.

It was another daughter moment twinned with some Roald Dahl that got me thinking about all things bewitching.

This is a true halloween story that happened to me and my family the first halloween after we arrived in England in 1953.
We were living in Cambridge, in a house that had been built in 1863, per the date etched into a stone, above the front door on the second floor. The house was a three story house, and did indeed look old.

So I just finished the rough draft on a Halloween-themed story. Like Becoming Robin this is seated very much in the Sweet / Sentimental category. Unlike Robin this isn't a novel-going-on-serial :-P

It's an actual, real-live short story, from me, the Queen of babbling endlessly. Can you believe it? ^_^

Did I see the dress as a threat to my legacy, an insult to generations of men who fought wars and presided over propane grills? No, I honestly don't believe that a 4-year-old's Halloween costume has the power to cement his sexual identity for life. I was not threatened by fears of a same-sex, vegan wedding ceremony or a rejection of power tools and the Super Bowl. A far more immediate evil loomed in my magic mirror: children who mock other children.

Novelist J.D. Salinger passed away on January 27, 2010. This tale has a few minor similarities to J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye. To tell you the truth, Salinger's novel is absolutely terrific, way better than the story I made up. So maybe you might want to read Salinger's book because Holden Caulfield is an extremely funny character. Catch Her was first posted in the summer of 2003.

In my head I heard Mrs. Legno's voice: "The day after Halloween you're just going to put your pants back on and go play football?"

and my reply: Not exactly, but something like that.

"I've been such an ass!" Mickey exclaimed.

After a moment, Mom told him, "If it's any consolation, you come from a family of asses."

The party was great. Halloween was my favorite time because you could be whomever you wanted to be, your wildest fantasy come true. The humblest, most repressed person could step out as the most bizarre, most brazen, most outrageous creature they could imagine without fear of persecution.

I knew enough now that I passed easily as a woman. Things might have been different several months ago, but not now.

Well, here I am, the last one alive in the research lab. The vampires have either turned or killed everybody else here.

I don't know how those little stories strike you, but... as I listened... at first I felt like a fish out of water. My first impulse was to laugh or to mock, but I was the only one. Everyone else in the room took each story as it was: a candid offering. I'm not saying they were all good; they weren't. But they were all sincere, without guile.

"I'm sorry we didn't talk to you first, Victor, but we had to make a quick decision. Your father didn't have his car, and there wasn't any point in taking you. You would have had to hang around the hospital, and you wouldn't have had time to change."

"Oh," I said, seeing myself sitting in a hospital hallway, dressed as Tinkerbell, complete with wings and wand.

"I'm sorry I missed it," he went on, "but I figured it was just going to be a kids' party, you know? I should have thought... I should have known that Tatum here would carry destruction in her wake."

"My name is Juliette," I corrected. Not that it mattered, because Robert's father just went on talking.

"Hello, girls," she said, smiling, but she didn't move aside to let us in. "Miranda, I know you, from school. Your friend... you're the little girl who swears! Tatum, isn't it?"

"No, I'm Juliette," I corrected. "Can we–"

"Do you want a snack?"

"No," I said, putting my hand on my rather full stomach. "I had the hugest breakfast."

"Oh, yes, I forgot what a little pig-lotta you are!" she teased.